


Ménage à Trois

by Katalyna_Rose, lehavashadowsun



Series: Vhenan AU [19]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Arlathan, Bath Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Cock Worship, Come Marking, Cumplay, Cunnilingus, Elvhenan, Elvhenan Culture and Customs, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Gags, Light BDSM, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Porn With Plot, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Magic, Spanking, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 21:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 73,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11768682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lehavashadowsun/pseuds/lehavashadowsun
Summary: Solas, known as Fen'Harel, knew love before he knew war. In the arms of two women, Thema mistaken for Andruil, Lyna mistaken for Ghilan'nain, he knew peace and contentment. The three of them fulfilled each other, a heart with three pieces. They would do anything for each other. Anything.





	1. Ménage à Trois

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas's two beautiful lovers are as insatiable as they are merciless. They will drive him and each other to the edge as many times as they can. Tied down and used as their toy, Solas will watch, enraptured, as Thema and Lyna pleasure each other and him. They are beautiful, the two halves of his heart, as they bring him more pleasure than he can even comprehend.

Solas struggled to keep his breathing even as he tugged uselessly on the ropes that bound him. They were secure, the two who tied him down well-practiced by now in their knot-work. And they were giggling, his lovers, as they stood at the foot of the bed and pointedly ignored him. They giggled into each other’s mouths, kissing desperately and biting each other’s lips. Thema took Lyna’s lower lip between her teeth and pulled hard enough to stretch it and make Lyna lean forward. The lip was released suddenly and Lyna gasped before burying her fingers in Thema’s hair and yanking her against her body. Lyna’s pale skirt was bunched in Thema’s hands, long and lithe legs revealed slowly until all at once the loose dress was yanked over her head and thrown across the room and Lyna was left in nothing but tiny panties, nothing to cover her breasts.

Thema moaned and sucked a nipple into her mouth as Lyna laughed and leaned her head back. Hair like cream was brushed over Lyna’s shoulder out of the way and hair like silverite in the sun fell across her chest instead as Thema leaned closer. Solas thought perhaps that the two of them should have tied their long hair up out of the way, but he couldn’t deny the beauty of the pale strands against their soft skin. They were so soft, the both of them. Solas knew this intimately. Both were battle-hardened warriors, their skills with a bow unmatched except by each other, and they had the scars and callouses to prove it, yet they were so soft. Soft under his hands and lips and tongue, soft as he pressed his cock into them, soft as he claimed their lips with his while they moaned his name or each other’s names. As Lyna reached behind Thema to tug loose the laces that kept the bodice of her dress tight around her ample breasts and firm ass, Solas tugged harder on the ropes they’d bound him with as he began to ache to touch them. But still they did not so much as glance his way, even when Thema’s gown was loosened enough to be pushed off her shoulders and shoved down her hips to pool on the floor. And Thema was not even wearing the teasing panties that were Lyna’s only cover, and Lyna gasped in delight as she gripped Thema’s ass strongly to make her rock on her feet.

“Ah, but I do love your legs,” Lyna sighed as she ran her hands over Thema’s hips and trailed her lips across her lover’s collarbone.

“I know you love what’s between them,” Thema quipped, hands squeezing Lyna’s breasts. They laughed breathlessly until their lips met again and Solas could only watch as they shared breaths and explored each other’s mouths. He was hard for them from just this display, but they continued to act as though they could not see him writhing on the bed and tugging on the ropes.

Thema slowly, gracefully, fell to her knees and dragged Lyna’s last garment down with her. Lyna stepped out of her panties gracefully, then nearly fell when teeth fastened on her hip bone. She laughed and steadied herself with a hand on Thema’s shoulder as the woman kissed below her navel. Solas knew that Thema would simply hook Lyna’s leg over her shoulder and drink of her juices if given half a chance, and he moaned because he would witness their pleasure and not be allowed to partake.

Two pairs of eyes focused on him, reacting to the noise. Lyrium blue and deep violet pierced through him suddenly and intensely enough to _almost_ make him wish they would continue to ignore him.

“Did you hear something, vhenan?” Lyna asked with a playful smirk.

“Hmm, I think our toy feels a little left out,” Thema replied with a grin.

Lyna chuckled, a low sound that shivered through him, and crawled onto the bed between his legs. She stopped above his cock, fully hard and aching for her, her hot breath a torturous caress. “Do you need attention, ma lath?” she asked quietly, smiling up at him and opening her mouth to allow her tongue to dip down, but she did not taste him.

A sudden crack echoed through the room and Lyna jerked forward with a cry, her tongue meeting his cock to make him moan. She took it away almost immediately and looked over her shoulder at Thema, who was grinning.

“Share!” she demanded and smacked Lyna’s ass again. Giggling, Lyna moved over to make room, straddling Solas’s left leg and settling over him. Thema crawled onto the bed and filled the space left for her, straddling his right leg and settling in with much wiggling.

“Since you interrupted,” Lyna began, looking at Thema, “I get to-“ She interrupted herself by lunging forward and closing her lips around the head of Solas’s cock and sucking hard enough to make him lift his hips off the bed with what little leverage he still had. He moaned loudly when she released him. She sighed against his cock, resting her cheek against it happily until Thema roughly grabbed her chin.

“I’ll take that,” she said just before she plunged her tongue into Lyna’s mouth and licked away whatever precum she’d managed to suck out of him. Then they both settled in and got to work. Thema’s fingers massaged the skin behind his balls, slowly working her way back to tease the ring of taut muscle she loved to penetrate while her mouth focused on the base of his cock. Lyna had one hand curled possessively around the heavy weight of his testicles, both keeping them out of Thema’s away and massaging them gently while she sucked the head of him into her mouth again and took him deeper. Teeth scraped his sensitive flesh from two mouths to send lightning arcing up his spine. He moaned loudly and two pairs of bright, crystalline eyes flickered up to his face. They both stopped immediately and pulled away, sitting up slightly. Lyna rested her cheek on Thema’s shoulder and looked up at the other woman.

“Do you think we should let him come?” she asked, calm and contemplative as she brushed cream-colored hair back so that it tickled her ass. Thema dropped a kiss on Lyna’s forehead.

“No,” she said thoughtfully, an evil smile curling her lips. “I think we should make him wait.”

“But look how hard he is, vhenan,” Lyna protested, though Solas knew from her smirk that she agreed. She reached forward and flicked the tip of his cock, the sharp pain of it making him buck beneath them and draw a ragged breath. “Will he last even if we tell him to?”

Thema leaned forward, reaching out a hand to snag Solas’s chin and make him meet her eyes. “Would you disobey us by coming too soon, vhenan?” she asked him, voice hard and hoarse with pleasure and command.

“I would endeavor not to,” he rasped, gasping. Lyna leaned forward then as well and tugged hard on the tip of his sensitive ear to make him focus on her now.

“That isn’t good enough,” she told him harshly. “You must not come until we allow it.” He trembled at her words and the combined power of their attention on him.

“I will not come until you allow it,” he vowed, though his cock twitched and precum beaded on the head even as he made his promise. Both women grinned and leaned back, settling over his legs again.

“Do you believe him, vhenan?” Lyna asked, slanting a look at Thema. She turned and kissed Lyna deeply.

“I do,” she declared, and both women went back to work. Thema massaged the pucker of his anus, coaxing it to relax for her while she took his length into her mouth. Lyna massaged his testicles, a little harder this time, and used her other hand to push Thema’s head down until she took his length to the root. Lyna held Thema there, her throat open to take all of him, and released his balls to massage her throat gently. She moaned low in her throat and met Solas’s eyes.

“How does it feel, ma lath?” she asked him in a whisper. “How does it feel to have your cock in her throat?” Even though Thema was being pressed hard into his pelvis and her breathing was blocked by his cock deep in her throat, she continued her massage until she could slip the tip of her finger inside him to work him loose. Solas groaned and struggled to stay still, enraptured by the pale head pressed against his groin and the tightness of her throat around the tip of his cock and the wet heat of her mouth around his entire length. “I can feel you in her throat,” Lyna continued, her eyes on his face as he panted for breath and was helpless to do anything but watch. “You are so big, ma lath, and you fill us so full. You stretch her throat right now.” Her voice dropped half an octave as she said, “You will stretch my cunt later.” His breath stuttered in his throat and he fought not to come from this part of their plan revealed to him. He tightened around Thema’s slowly circling finger as he struggled.

Lyna leaned down and bit the tip of Thema’s ear, and Solas shouted as her throat convulsed around him in response. She had to be seeing spots by now from how long she’d been without air, but she did not complain as Solas grunted and writhed and struggled valiantly not to come.

Suddenly, Lyna used her hold on Thema’s hair to yank her head back and Solas was released from her mouth as she gasped for breath. Lyna kept her fist in Thema’s hair as she kissed her shoulder and Thema regained her breath.

“Did he come, vhenan?” Lyna whispered the question in Thema’s ear.

“He did not,” she was told, Thema’s voice hoarse and rasping as her breathing settled. Lyna grinned and kissed Thema’s cheek, wiping at the trail of spit that fell down her chin.

“Perfect,” she purred, releasing Thema’s hair as she leaned down again to lick all along his length, running her tongue under his foreskin. Thema returned a moment later, her finger now sliding deeper into him as she sucked each testicle into her mouth. She curled her finger just right as she hit the depth she needed and stars exploded behind his eyes and he choked on his own breath, bucking his hips up and consequently thrusting deeper into Lyna’s mouth. She cried out around his cock in surprise and Thema moaned encouragement to them both as pleasure traveled in waves across Solas’s skin and liquid heat pooled in his belly and he gasped and struggled desperately not to come. But he was close, so close, his head whipping on the pillow under him and groans forcing themselves past his throat from deep in his chest and their touch was driving him wild.

The hot, wet touch of two mouths left him for just a moment, though the finger inside him and the hand wrapped around the base of him remained. Two voices, low and rough with lust, whispered as one. “Come,” they commanded, and he made himself look at them. Two pairs of crystalline eyes watched, wide and dark with lust, a hand from each of them still working his pleasure steadily. Their cheeks were pressed together, faces close, mouths open wide and tongues hanging out, expectant of his load. With a shout he gave it to them, his hips bucking helplessly under the force of his pleasure. The hand on his cock angled it and his seed lashed across their tongues. But the spurts were forceful and unpredictable, so he marked their cheeks and chins as well. He kept coming, harder and longer than he had thought possible, and he watched helplessly as he marked their faces and dripped onto their breasts. But finally he was spent and both women licked up what they could reach with their own tongues and swallowed his thick come.

He lay back, breathing heavily as they sat up, hands leaving him as his cock softened in the aftermath. Thema put a hand on Lyna’s cheek, smearing the lash of semen there as she turned to woman’s face to hers. “You seem to have made a mess of yourself, vhenan,” she said, smiling. Then she leaned forward and licked a line of white off Lyna’s chin.

“Oh, but what’s all this all over your breasts?” Lyna asked, grinning as she leaned down to lick a trail from the top of Thema’s breast. Thema licked her hand, smeared with come, as Lyna cleaned her chest. A trail was kissed up her neck, lips and tongue cleaning as she went, until Lyna could kiss Thema deeply, sharing the thick fluid in her mouth between them. Then Thema licked up the mess on Lyna’s chest while Lyna ran her fingers through Thema’s tangled hair and made some attempt to reorder it.

Breasts were fondled, nipples teased, laughter shared between breaths as they cleaned each other up, and by the time Solas’s seed had been reduced to nothing more than a little sticky residue on their skin his cock was hard again, wanting more. It always amazed him that he could be so ready for them so easily, but they were utter perfection in his eyes. They teased each other with masterful touches, owning him, owning each other, sliding through roles with ease. Though Lyna had been the one to force Thema’s head down and make her take his cock to the hilt, now Thema was the one to fist her hands in Lyna’s hair and pull down hard. She trapped Lyna against her chest, face below hers, and kissed her hard, biting her lips hard enough to bruise.

“I want you to ride that cock,” Thema growled. Lyna whimpered as the cock in question twitched and stood at attention. “I want you to ride it hard. I want you to make him come again as fast as you can. But don’t you dare come, too.” Fingers tightened in creamy strands of hair as Lyna whimpered under Thema’s dominion. “Don’t you dare come for him. Ride his cock and make him come in you, and then you are mine.” Lyna’s wet and bruised lips opened around a gasp that Solas echoed.

“Yes, vhenan,” Lyna whimpered, voice small and hoarse. Solas did not have words to express his pleasure at this. But he did have something to add.

“Thema, come to me,” he rasped, hands curling into fists as he tried to reach for her but his bonds would not give. “Come here and let me drink you.”

Both women focused on him again, the force of their gazes making gooseflesh prickle on his skin. Then they smiled. “You did as we asked and came only when we allowed it,” Thema said at last. “I will give you that pleasure. But first, you will watch as Lyna takes your cock all the way in.” Lyna whimpered again.

They moved then. Thema knelt behind his head and lifted it up so that he had no escape from the view of Lyna straddling his hips. She was breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust as she grabbed his cock to angle it at her entrance.

“Are you wet enough, vhenan?” Thema asked as Lyna hesitated with the tip of him resting against her entrance. She reached forward and Solas saw her press a finger into Lyna’s entrance around his cock. Both women moaned as Thema slid her finger deep. She added a second finger and pumped them for a moment before withdrawing. “Oh, yes, you are,” Thema said, answering her own question. She showed Solas the way her fingers glistened, the way their lover’s fluid made strings as she parted her fingers. “Taste,” she whispered to him. “Taste her before you taste me.” And then she put her fingers in his mouth. He groaned and sucked on them, Lyna’s flavor bright on his tongue. His eyes slid closed as he curled his tongue around each of Thema’s fingers and licked them clean. Her hand was taken away and Solas opened his eyes again. Lyna waited until he focused on her, then lowered herself onto his cock. He slipped easily past her entrance and she gasped while he struggled not to buck his hips into her. She was so wet and hot, but she moved slowly as she fit him inside. Her face was twisted into an expression halfway between ecstasy and agony as he stretched her wide, her breaths speeding up and growing harsh. Solas moaned at the sight of his engorged cock slowly disappearing inside her. He was large, he knew, and it was always a struggle for them to fit him inside, but finally Lyna’s hips rested against his, the entirety of his cock nestled within her sweet heat. She sighed in relief and rocked her hips against his. Thema reached forward and unerringly found the little bud under a hood of flesh, the one that both women loved to have stimulated. She played with it with one gentle finger, angling her hand so that Solas could watch. Lyna let her head fall back as she moved her hips in slow circles, stretching herself on him and allowing her body to grow accustomed to his girth. Then Lyna nodded at Thema and she let his head fall back against the pillow. She crawled forward on her knees until her thighs warmed his ears and he licked his lips as her decadent sex descended toward his face.

Suddenly he was left with nothing but sensation, his vision blocked by the beautiful pussy that he sucked into his mouth, his hearing muffled by the strong thighs beside his head. He could hear moans and gasps above him but he couldn’t tell who they belonged to anymore. His cock was gripped tight by Lyna’s sex as she thrust slowly along his length. He dipped his tongue past Thema’s entrance to taste her sweet juices and she all but flooded his mouth. He pulled on his restraints, wishing for the use of his hands as he circled her clit with his tongue. He wanted to thrust his fingers deep inside her as he sucked on her clit, but he’d have to make do. The hardened nub between his lips made her keen above him as he flicked it with the tip of his tongue. Lyna’s hips rose up and then snapped down hard on his, then lifted again until only the tip of him remained inside. As she thrust down again, taking his whole length in one thrust, he bucked his hips up to meet her and she keened, too. They settled into a rhythm, his tongue and lips on Thema’s sex matching the pace that Lyna set for his cock. It was hard and fast, Lyna eager to get him off while staving off her own completion. She didn’t grind down against him on the down stroke to tease her clit on his pelvis. She didn’t lean back and brace her hands on his knees to find the angle that would stimulate her core just right. Instead she took him in quick, hard thrusts, muscles clenching tightly around him. The moans above him grew louder, longer, more constant as he struggled to keep his focus enough to bring Thema to orgasm.

“Don’t come, vhenan,” Thema rasped to Lyna. “Not yet.” A whimper that was almost a cry was her only response as Lyna picked up her pace. In response, Solas sucked hard on Thema’s clit and then thrust his tongue inside her and suddenly she cried out and trembled above him. She flooded his mouth with her pleasure and he licked it all up, even sucking on her for more as she braced her hands on his chest and bucked her hips against his face, pressing down until he couldn’t breathe as she used him to ride out her orgasm.

When Thema finally lifted her hips off his drenched face and his sight returned to him, Lyna was almost senseless as she struggled against her own release. She met his gaze desperately as he looked at her, red-faced and sweating, her skin gleaming and her features scrunched in concentration.

“Please come, ma lath,” she begged him as she trembled. “Please come for me! I cannot… Ah, I cannot hold out much longer. Please!” Her words shook through him and his body obeyed without hesitation. He arched up with a shout and pumped his seed deep inside her. She cried out softly.

“Don’t come yet, Lyna,” Thema commanded, and he opened his eyes through the haze of his pleasure just enough to see her hands framing Lyna’s face, Lyna’s mouth working helplessly, her whole body trembling with need as he flooded her. Finally, his orgasm ended and Lyna shuddered over him. She closed her eyes and whined desperately, but Thema shook her.

“Did you come?” she demanded. Lyna could only shake her head, so close to the precipice that she could not even find words. Thema kissed her sweaty forehead. “Good girl,” she whispered. Then she lay down beside Solas, her head next to his hip and her feet near his head. Then she tugged on Lyna’s hips. “Here, come here,” she said, eagerly tugging at her lover. Solas’s limp cock slipped out of her with ease as Lyna obeyed. She stayed facing Solas as she crouched over Thema’s face, her breathing ragged and her body still trembling on the edge of release. From this vantage, Solas could see everything. He saw his come drip slightly down her leg. He saw Thema’s pink little tongue snake out to catch it and Lyna’s muscles clench in response. Thema took hold of Lyna’s hips and dragged her down onto her face. Solas thought he might faint when he heard the wet slurping of Thema drinking his seed out of Lyna’s cunt.

Pleasure tingled up his spine as he watched Thema drink from Lyna, both of them moaning. Lyna’s mouth hung open around her desperate moans, but her eyes were locked on his face. He pulled sharply against his restraints, needing to touch her, to hold her trembling body as she was kept at the very edge of pleasure. She keened suddenly, no doubt from Thema’s lips on her clit, but still she was not allowed to come. She began to sob her breaths, but still she kept her eyes on his face, letting him see her desperation as the pleasure became almost painful.

“Please, vhenan,” she breathed, her voice almost gone. “Please, please, please let me come.” Thema moaned, arching her neck to a new angle. The thumb of one hand found Lyna’s clit and played with it as her tongue thrust inside. Then her other hand smacked hard on Lyna’s ass and suddenly she was screaming. As Thema sucked and slurped and moaned on her cunt, Lyna screamed and shook, her eyes finally closing as she bent forward and braced her hands on Thema’s belly to stay even slightly upright. Her face was a mask of exquisite agony as she shook and screamed and came hard for Thema’s touch.

But finally Thema allowed her to come down from the high of pleasure and she collapsed, still shaking, across Solas’s legs. Thema lay where she was for a while, catching her breath and trembling. They were all drenched in sweat and thoroughly exhausted.

Thema suddenly coughed and Solas realized that more than her face was drenched; the bed around her head was soaked and her hair had received a good downpour. Lyna had come harder than he’d even realized, spraying all over Thema. It explained why she could now only twitch helplessly and gasp like a fish out of water as she sprawled across his legs. She would be so drained from such pleasure.

“Release me from the ropes, Thema,” Solas rasped. Thema sat up, wiping liquid off her face with her hands. She nodded, looking dazed, and set to the task. She massaged his wrists as she freed them, then did the same to his legs. Once he sat up she collapsed onto the bed again. Solas gathered Lyna in his arms, dragging her limp form up from his legs to cradle her against his chest.

“Are you alright, ma lath?” he asked her in a whisper, smoothing her hair off her forehead. She turned her head enough to kiss his chest and then smiled up at him.

“So good,” she rasped, then closed her eyes again. He smiled at her and settled her on the bed, cushioning her head with a pillow. He tugged at Thema until she moved into position, wrapping her arms around Lyna. He settled himself in behind Lyna, curling his body to fit her form. Thema snagged a blanket from somewhere nearby and tossed it over their knotted limbs. Then she wrapped them both up in her arms. Solas held the both of them, his two precious women, the two halves of his heart, and sighed in deep contentment.

Lyna yawned loudly and snuggled deeper into their embrace. “I found this double-ended flexible dildo at a shop last week,” she slurred, sounding half asleep. “We should try it next time.” And then her lips parted around her breaths and Solas knew she was asleep. Thema hummed assent for Lyna’s suggestion and then was asleep as well. Solas smiled at his insatiable lovers and closed his eyes to follow them into the Fade.


	2. Binding Braids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've started prompting each other for this.
> 
> "3some AU: A lazy getaway from the burdens of being Evanuris and plotting out the beginnings of a Rebellion. The topic of babies comes up, as well as wedding" Given by lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“What are you going to do with all these braids?” Lyna asked musingly as she continued to unravel them from her lover’s hair.

“I know,” Thema added, shaking her head as she unraveled more. “There are so many! And every time you get more we have to undo all this work and do it all over again.”

Lyna snorted and rolled her eyes. “We have to do that for you, too, vhenan,” she reminded her lover. “Only my new braids go in without all this hassle because I’m the only one with the foresight not to braid all my hair!”

“Or maybe it’s because you have the fewest responsibilities of all of us,” Thema quipped, smirking. Lyna gasped in indignation.

“I have only three less than you!” she cried.

“Vhenan, settle,” Solas soothed, one of his hands caressing Lyna’s hip and the other reaching back behind him to stroke Thema’s cheek. Lyna wanted to continue arguing, stung over the insult, but Solas bucked his hips beneath her and she forgot her biting words.

As they worked on their lover’s hair, weaving the magic of his responsibilities into each of his dozens of braids, all three were naked. After a lengthy wrestling match that had resulted in approximately two dozen orgasms between the three of them, Lyna had earned the privilege of being the one to ride Solas’s cock as they worked on his braids. Thema was not left out, however; Lyna’s magic was currently ensuring that she felt exactly what Lyna felt, each thrust into her body enjoyed by the other woman as well.

Finally, Solas’s hair was freed. Lyna took Thema’s hands and breathed her spell onto them, then both women combed through his hair with their fingers to magically cleanse it of dirt and oil and tangles that were missed by regular washing. Solas closed his eyes, relaxing under their touch until Lyna thrust hard in his lap. He opened his eyes with a groan, his cock pulsing inside her. Together, Lyna and Thema sectioned out Solas’s hair, carefully counting out how many braids they would be giving him and keeping each braid the same width. Once that was done, little magic bands keeping the sections clear, each of them took a chunk of his hair under his left ear. These braids were special, but they were difficult because Thema lacked magic. It was sometimes difficult to hide that fact, though she boasted of her pride of her physical prowess often enough to excuse the fact that she never used magic in public. But this first braid was to be Solas’s responsibility to each of his lovers and it was meant to hold their love for him and his for each of them.

To disguise Thema’s lack of magic, Lyna kissed Solas deeply, drawing from his soul his feelings for Thema. Then she brought this magic to Thema’s lips and drew from her soul as well, mingling their love inside her mouth. Once she had the magic-that-was-not-magic properly blended, she kissed Thema’s palms to infuse her hands with the spell. Then Thema got to work on the braid, her fingers leaving the magic of her love in his hair as they stroked through it.

Lyna ground herself against Solas’s hips, stirring his length within herself as she kissed him and drew upon his love for her. It was different from his love for Thema but no less potent, no less meaningful. He loved them both equally, found fulfillment from them both in different ways. Neither of them ever questioned his devotion to them; there was no need. This magic of love Lyna breathed upon her fingers and then worked it into the second braid beneath his left ear. Once complete, the braids were sealed with magic and tied off with lengths of black cord.

Smiling with sentimentality, Lyna reached out to Thema, who knelt at Solas’s back and picked up the starlight braid that was their love for each other. Those two braids beneath her left ear were the only ones on Thema’s head that were the same width. Lyna kissed the bead of silverite that she had braided into it and felt the tingle of magic against her lips.

Solas stilled his hips beneath her and she looked at him. The storm blue of his eyes was intense as he unerringly found his braid in both of their hair. He used the braid to tug Thema nearer until he could kiss her deeply, then he did the same for Lyna.

“My heart,” he whispered, voice hoarse with emotion. Lyna’s eyes prickled with tears and Thema blinked a few times to keep her lyrium blue eyes dry. It was always like this when they had to redo the braids, their love brought forth so strongly by the magic. Solas gripped all six braids of love in his fist, all the love they each felt held in his hand as he bucked his hips hard and thrust into Lyna’s eager cunt. Lyna and Thema both moaned as pleasure sparked through them. Thema laid her cheek on Solas’s shoulder and reached past him to wrap her hand around the back of Lyna’s neck.

“Harder,” she commanded, eyes spearing through Lyna. She obeyed, whipping her hips for them and moaning at the way heat pooled in her belly.

“I’m close,” she murmured, a warning and a prayer.

“Yes,” Thema breathed, her eyes fluttering closed though her grip on Lyna’s neck did not loosen.

Solas gazed up at Lyna, his mouth open around his breaths, the braids still clutched in his fist. He studied her eyes and the way lust softened her features as he bucked his hips harder. “My heart,” he breathed again, voice choked and desperate. Then his eyes closed as his orgasm rippled through him. Both women gasped as his seed flooded Lyna, and her spine stiffened as her own orgasm shuddered through her muscles. The sensation of orgasm was doubled as Thema followed her, magic connecting their cunts and the sensation shared between them. Both screamed as waves of pleasure swamped them and overcame their senses.

When Lyna could open her eyes again, she was cradled against Solas’s chest, one of his arms around her waist to hold her steady. His other arm he had reached back to keep Thema pressed tightly against his back. They were kissing, Solas’s neck at a sharp angle to devour the woman behind him. Lyna smiled in pleasure and pressed a kiss against his neck. Once they were all three sufficiently recovered, they sat up and resumed the work of braiding duty into Solas’s hair.

They worked in comfortable silence for several hours. Thema would whisper which duty she was going to braid next and Lyna would kiss the magic onto her fingers so she could work. And all the while, Solas would harden again inside Lyna and they would lazily fuck until orgasm swept them away once more. And then their work would continue and this cycle repeated.

“I want a baby,” Thema suddenly said out of nowhere. Lyna paused her fingers, Solas stilled his movements within her, and both of them looked at her. She avoided their eyes and shrugged. “I want a baby,” she muttered again, sounding defensive.

Lyna resumed her lazy riding of Solas and shrugged as well. “I can’t say I haven’t thought about it,” she admitted. She felt two piercing gazes on her, now. Solas brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek.

“Just one child?” he asked them. They met eyes over his shoulder, both considering. “Who would carry it? It is a difficult thing, I think, that I have two beautiful lovers who could carry a child.”

“I don’t want to carry,” Thema declared, her tone final. Lyna frowned at her. “Besides the fact that I’m _not_ all that beautiful-“

“Don’t you say that!” Lyna cried.

“You are lovely,” Solas insisted. Thema smiled at the braid in her hands.

“I know I’m beautiful to you,” she assured them. “But by the standards of the People, I am not.” She shrugged, uncaring, the opinions of the masses mattering not at all to her. Lyna hated it, though, that Thema was looked down on because her ears were too close to her head and her features were wider and longer. Thema was the most beautiful woman Lyna had ever laid eyes on, no matter how she was perceived by others. Lyna loved to kiss every freckle on Thema’s body. It took days to accomplish, counting them out one by one as the sun crossed the sky and the stars twinkled before receding behind the sun’s glow once more, but it was one of her favorite pastimes. “Anyway, that’s not the real issue.” She finished her braid and tied it off, then stopped. She stared at it as Lyna’s magic sealed in the spells and preserved the braid. “I’m not even Elvhen, not really.”

“Whatever you were, you are our heart now,” Lyna assured her, cupping her cheek. Thema leaned into the touch with a smile.

“I know that,” she said. “I’m yours and you both are mine. I know. But if I carried a true Elvhen child, who could say that it would be… right? We can’t know how my true origins would affect any baby I carried. I don’t even have magic!” She looked up at Lyna. “I’d rather you carried any baby we had. You’re truly Elvhen and you’re so fucking beautiful. And I want to be a part of it all, obviously. I wouldn’t be less the child’s mother just because I didn’t carry. I mean, we can’t both carry the same child anyway.” She shrugged again. Lyna looked at Solas.

“What do you think, ma lath?” she asked him.

“I think that there is a possibility of a child Thema carries receiving something genetically from her origins, though I do not believe it would be likely,” he told them. “Though I also hardly think it matters. If Thema would prefer that Lyna carry our child, then I see no reason to fight on that issue. If, of course, Lyna would like to carry the child.”

“I would,” Lyna admitted softly. Two bright smiles rewarded her. “But I also don’t think now is a very good time.” Both of them sobered and Thema frowned. “We’re planning a rebellion and that’s no way to raise a child. War is no place for an infant… Besides, we aren’t even married!”

“We’ve never needed to be married,” Thema said, taking it all in stride as she always did. “But you’re right about the possibility of war. Freeing our people from the other Evanuris won’t happen peacefully. Even if Mythal ever gets her head out of her ass and openly declares for us, it’s going to get bloody.”

“Vhenan, she is doing the best she can,” Solas told Thema with conviction. Lyna shared a grimace of distaste with Thema, but they chose not to comment on his delusions for the moment. Both of them started on new braids, Lyna kissing more magic into Thema’s fingers.

“I just hope we won’t have to be apart,” Lyna whispered, scowling at her work and clenching her sex around Solas’s cock possessively.

“Not so much, ma vhenan,” Solas groaned. “I am beginning to feel sore.” Lyna relaxed her cunt around him even as she rolled her eyes.

“You love it,” she told him, then squealed when he smacked her ass. Thema’s giggle prompted him to smack Lyna again and before long they were fucking each other in earnest again, braids temporarily abandoned in favor of pleasure.


	3. Suspect Garment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Prompt for Lyna/Thema/Solas: the case of the traveling panties. They show up everwhere, on the floor in the bedroom, accidenty in solas' pack- but the best part is everyones forgotten who they originally belonged to." From @eshidu on tumblr!  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“What’s this?” Solas asked with a scowl, holding up a pair of white lace panties with one finger as though they were poisonous. Thema and Lyna both looked up from dressing each other. They’d been working very slowly and would probably end up naked again before they were ready for the day, but Solas couldn’t say he minded that at all.

“Panties. Duh,” Thema replied since Lyna’s mouth was busy on her neck.

“Clearly,” Solas said dryly, raising a brow. “But why were they in my drawer?” Thema threaded her fingers through Lyna’s hair, brushing away her braids and tugging on loose strands only to have a nipple bitten for her troubles, gown pushed down to reveal her breasts.

“Because they’re yours?” Thema suggested, then yelped at the sudden hand between her legs. Lyna laughed against her skin while Solas sighed heavily.

“We don’t know who they belong to anymore,” Lyna finally answered, though she grinned and watched Thema’s face while she fingered her lover while they were both standing. Thema was squirming and had her arms wrapped around Lyna’s shoulders to stay upright.

“The two of you share clothes anyway,” Solas observed with a frown, continuing his investigation despite his growing erection as he watched them. “What does it matter whose they were originally?”

“We don’t share panties,” Thema gasped, nearly falling over as Lyna thrust strongly with her hand. “More, more, give me another finger,” she whispered just before biting Lyna’s ear hard. Solas assumed she got what she wanted when she moaned loudly and rocked on her toes while Lyna chuckled.

“You’ll share every other article of clothing except panties?” Solas asked them incredulously. They were locked together at the lips when he asked it, so he had to wait as Thema desperately devoured Lyna’s wicked grin. Lyna bit Thema’s lip and pulled on it with her teeth as the woman gasped and writhed on her hand.

“We don’t share breast bands either,” Lyna told him when she released Thema’s lip. Thema let her head fall back with a moan, still clinging to Lyna’s shoulder as she was aggressively fingered. Both women remained standing somehow, and Solas was as impressed as he was aroused by the display. Lyna grinned triumphantly at the sound of the wet squelching of Thema’s sex as she continued to finger her, thrusting strongly.

“You like that, vhenan?” she whispered in Thema’s ear. Thema could only moan in response, her head loose on her neck. “Do you like it when I do this?” Solas wasn’t quite sure what Lyna did, but he saw her twist her wrist and then Thema cried out and her knees buckled. She would have fallen if not for Lyna’s strength to hold her up.

“Oh, yes,” Thema groaned, clearly still riding her orgasm, the wet sound of Lyna’s fingers in her sex echoing through the room. And Solas couldn’t take it anymore. He came up behind the pair of them and shoved on Lyna’s shoulders. With a gasp, a squeak, and a squeal, the two of them fell onto the bed, Lyna’s weight on top of Thema.

“Vhenan!” they protested, attempting to right themselves, but Solas grabbed Lyna’s hips and held her steady, pinning Thema with her weight. He shoved Lyna’s skirt up to her waist.

“Continue,” he growled, freeing himself from his trousers. Then he thrust into Lyna, trusting that she would be plenty wet. He was correct, sliding inside easily as Lyna rocked forward on top of Thema from the force of the trust and cried out. The hand that was not inside Thema braced her weight on the bed and he could only assume from Thema’s moans that her other hand continued to pleasure her.

“Tell me why you don’t know whose panties they are,” Solas demanded as he set a punishing pace. Thema was watching his face as he fucked Lyna, bright blue eyes wide and dark. Lyna whimpered, her head cushioned on Thema’s breasts. She kissed and sucked at them somewhat desperately as she struggled to answer him.

“We’ve… had them… for… two centuries… or so,” she managed to gasp between thrusts. “Can’t… remember!” Then she gasped as an orgasm rippled through her, sweet pussy clenching tightly around his cock. He thrust through it, riding her out, but it wasn’t quite enough to finish him. He pushed her limp and sated body up Thema’s until he could find their lover’s cunt in the tangle of limbs and cloth. Thema gasped in delight as he replaced Lyna’s hand with his cock and Solas moaned at the feeling of her hot sex squeezing him, so wet from Lyna’s attentions. He set the same pace for Thema, pounding into her strongly as Lyna sighed happily and kissed Thema’s neck and ears, showering her with affection.

When Thema came again, she did it with her arms wrapped tightly around Lyna and her cunt gripping Solas’s cock strongly. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned loudly as Solas poured his seed into her with a shout and a few shallow thrusts. And then they were done, a pile of sweaty limbs breathing heavily.

“See to it they don’t end up in my drawer again,” Solas told them with a grin, realizing that he had already misplaced the suspect garment in the frenzy of their sex.

“’Kay,” Thema mumbled, still drunk on pleasure.

“Maybe they’re yours,” Lyna muttered, eyes still closed and lips still trailing across Thema’s skin. She squeaked when Solas slapped her bared ass hard enough to leave a red welt in her skin.


	4. Nothing of Importance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For DWC: Threesome AU. Thema is not a beauty in Arlathan, compared to her lovers, her more human features can be seen as ugly. No one is willing to say that to her face because of her Evanuris status, but Lyna and Solas overhear and are very willing to rip people apart." Given by lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“Andruil’s new face is definitely not an improvement.” Lyna heard the comment whispered behind a delicate fan as she passed a group of three ladies, lesser daughters from prominent houses invited to the ball only because Mythal and Elgar’nan had invited nearly all of Elvhenan.

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more!” one of the lady’s companions exclaimed softly. She tittered. “I’ve seen mules that were more attractive. Such a shame she had to lose the previous face! It was so much lovelier!”

“And her ears then were at least proper Elvhen ears!” the third lady added. “Not those flat, rounded monstrosities!” All three of them laughed.

Lyna took a few deep breaths. Solas, who had been approaching her with a smile, frowned when he saw how brittle her expression had become. She handed him her glass of wine so she didn’t throw it at anyone or turn the crystal into a weapon and turned to address the offending women.

“Do you make a habit of speaking of your leaders behind painted fans?” Lyna asked them softly with a gentle smile. She would not show them how close she was to ripping them all apart, torturing them with her magic for daring to speak that way about her lover.

“Oh! Ghilan’nain!” the first woman to speak exclaimed, finally noticing her presence far too late. All three dropped into deep curtsies, all but sinking into the floor. The air around them trembled with their nervous fear, though Lyna kept her smile gentle.

“We did not see you arrive!” the third woman said, avoiding eye contact.

“Ah, then you do make a habit of it,” Lyna said sadly. She sighed, still smiling, and observed each woman in turn. They flinched under her silent assessment, not daring to say more, not daring to retreat from an Evanuris who had claimed their attention. Though Lyna was not the Ghilan’nain they had once known, she’d been playing the part long enough to have no trouble at all drawing the curtain of her vast power around her shoulders like a cloak. “Andruil is your queen,” she reminded them softly, her tone turning from gentle to dangerous. “That is the only fact that matters. She is your queen as I am your queen, and any disrespect will not be tolerated.” Her aura turned to black smoke that slithered around the ladies like poisonous gas. “If you compare my love to any animal ever again, know that I will find out and I will make you eat your own intestines before you die.” Her smile was still in place, but it was as sharp as her fury. All three women trembled in fear.

Solas, who had been standing just behind Lyna and watching the scene play out, scowled and stepped forward. “They said what, my heart?” he asked Lyna, his voice rumbling with danger. The woman who had made the comment about the mule pissed herself on the spot. He glared at each of them in turn. “If ever you disrespect any of your leaders in such a way again, not only will you be force fed your own entrails by my beloved Ghilan’nain, but you will then be hunted by the very object of your insults. Do you know what it is to be prey, I wonder? To cower from each shadow that blocks the sun in fear that it may be the last? Do you know what it feels like to have your heart pierced by an arrow shot from Andruil’s own bow? You will find out. This is your only warning.”

And with that, they both dispelled their power, Lyna took her wineglass back from Solas, and they strolled away, arm in arm, as though nothing strange had happened. With a gleeful smile, Lyna greeted Thema. “There you are, love!” she exclaimed, releasing Solas in favor of kissing Thema sweetly.

“What happened over there?” Thema asked curiously, returning the kiss easily. Solas caught her jaw when Lyna released her and kissed her deeply, passionately enough to leave her breathing harshly when he finally pulled back.

“Nothing of importance,” he assured her with a heated smile. Lyna noted that the three offending ladies were retreating with haste from the ballroom, one of them carefully holding her fan over the top of the wet trail in her gown. She hid her satisfied smirk.


	5. A Moment's Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "3some AU: Thema and Lyna play their roles as Andruil and Ghilan'nain, forsaking Fen'harel as their lover. In secret they weep, mourning what they must do. A chance meeting in ruins older than Elvhenan and the Evanuris they meet their wayward lover, begging for forgiveness." Given by lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“Why are we here?” Thema whined, trailing behind Lyna as she held her mage light up to painted mural on the ancient wall.

“It was your idea to take a break from court, vhenan,” Lyna reminded her sweetly.

“Yeah, but I wanted to _hunt!”_ Thema reminded her, still whining pathetically. “What are we doing in here?”

“Hunting,” Lyna told her, tracing her fingers gently over the ancient paint, wondering what it was made of to have survived the elements so long. Moonlight filtered into the ruin from gaps in the ceiling, the elements having beaten this place hard. Lyna wondered what it had been and who had built it. She could not even guess its true age, renovations over renovations and newer stones set into old skewing any possible guess. It might very well be older than Arlathan itself.

“The biggest animal in here is a nug,” Thema complained, kicking a rock.

“We’re hunting for history,” Lyna clarified, eyes still on the mural. Thema snorted.

“I need to _kill_ something,” she said harshly. “I need to beat out my fury by breaking down a carcass and cooking it for you. I hate _everything_ so much right now!” Lyna turned to her with a frown, the mural forgotten in an instant.

“Do you hate me, too?” she asked in a small voice, hating that she had to ask yet unable to quell the fear. Thema made a noise in her throat and stepped forward to embrace Lyna, pulling her against her chest into a tight hug.

“I could never hate _you,_ vhenan,” Thema muttered into Lyna’s hair. Violet eyes prickled with unshed tears. “We’re both playing a part, keeping up appearances. I know you didn’t mean what you said today. I know you don’t believe he’s evil or that he coerced us or any of that. I know.”

“I miss him so much,” Lyna admitted in a choked voice, wrapping her arms around Thema and trying not to cry.

“I miss him, too,” Thema replied, voice suspiciously thick. She kept her head buried in Lyna’s shoulder, though, so any tears would not be seen.

There was a sound on one of the lower levels of the ruin and they both tensed as Lyna doused her mage light. They reached for their bows, an arrow to the string. No animal had made that noise, the sound of rock against rock and a grunt as part of a wall was knocked over to make a door in the ruins. Elvhen eyes flashing in the night, taking in whatever light was available and illuminating the near-complete darkness for them, they silently made their down the nearest flight of stairs and followed the almost-silent whisper of cloth on stone that their ears just barely picked up. They were silent as they stalked the intruder, not even their feet making any noise as they darted through the darkness.

The glow of a blue-green mage light appeared up ahead and Lyna traded glanced with Thema. A few gestures and Lyna raised barriers over their skin which gave off only the tiniest glimmer of blue light. It would be invisible to the one who carried the mage light, even if the intruder was Elvhen; the contrast between light and darkness would be too much to overcome.

They rounded a corner and found an Elvhen figure setting down a pack beside a wall with a grand mural painted on it. The figure was focused on the art, his back turned to them, but they both recognized him instantly. Thema opened her mouth and stepped forward, but Lyna grabbed her arm and shook her head. She didn’t trust that he would simply appear where they were.

 _Trap._ She mouthed the word to Thema, making no sound. Thema clenched her jaw but nodded and kept her bow at the ready. Lyna sent a sliver of magic slithering across the broken stone floor to the figure inspecting the mural. All at once, her magic pounced, assessing him, telling Lyna exactly what he was made of. But in doing it, it revealed itself, and the man spun with a snarl that faded into open-mouthed shock when he spotted the two women crouched in the shadows by the wall.

“It _is_ you!” Lyna cried, her magic having confirmed his identity. “You’re here!” She threw away her bow and launched herself at him. Thema was only a step behind her, hands also empty of weapons. Their combined force drove him back into the wall and his breath left him in a rush. Lyna felt his magic assess them as hers had done only moments before. A second later he was embracing them just as tightly as they were to him.

Lyna didn’t even realize she was sobbing until she heard a determined sniff from Thema. But she couldn’t be bothered to care, too relieved and joyful at seeing Solas again to give a damn if she cried all over them both.

“What are you doing here?” Solas asked once they all finally had the strength to step back a little. Lyna wiped her face and Thema blinked, denying whatever tears might have tried to fall.

“Hunting,” Lyna said thickly. “Just hunting.”

“We needed to get away from the court,” Thema added. “We couldn’t stand it any longer…”

“Yes, I… I heard about your latest denouncement of me,” Solas said quietly. Lyna burst into tears all over again.

“I’m so sorry, my heart!” she cried, falling into his arms again. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean _any_ of it! I love you so much and it was so hard to say it, but they were too close and I had to make them believe I don’t care for you anymore! It isn’t true! I love you _so much,_ I’m _so sorry!_ ” Solas held her close, arms so tight they hurt, and Thema’s hands ran across her back soothingly.

“Hush, now, my heart,” Solas soothed, pressing gentle kisses against the top of her head. “I know you are only doing what you must. You have sent me good people, saved them from an unspeakable fate. I know you don’t mean what you are forced to say. Be still, my love. I know.” Still, Lyna sobbed, all her despair at the part she was forced to play bubbling up to the surface, all the apologies she’d wanted to make in the fifteen years since they’d seen each other last fighting to be the first past her lips.

“I hate them _all!”_ she spat, anger taking control over despair, her tears hot on her face. “I hate what they’ve done to our people! I hate what they’ve done to _us!_ I hate that we have to be apart and say such awful things about you! I just… I just want you back! I want us all to be together again…” She trailed off into harsh, wracking sobs and Thema pressed herself against her back. Lyna was cradled between the two of them, sobbing into Solas’s chest as they held her gently.

“We’re together now,” Solas reminded her. She could only nod wordlessly against him and tighten her grip on him.

“Why _are_ you here?” Thema asked, running her fingers gently through Lyna’s hair.

“The same reason as you, it would seem,” Solas said, amusement in his tone. “I was seeking a moment’s escape. And I found my heart instead.”

“In addition,” Thema corrected. She moved against Lyna’s back and Solas moaned slightly and Lyna heard a wet sound and she knew they were kissing. It helped to calm her, to remind her not to waste this precious time on tears. One of Solas’s hands left her back and when she managed to open her eyes and blink away her tears, she saw that Solas was cradling Thema’s face in his hand as they leaned over her to kiss. She was shorter than them both, which is what made it possible, and Lyna watched them as she collected her wits. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, and their kiss had ended by the time she had composed herself.

“Sorry,” she muttered, but she was met with two sweet smiles.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Thema told her. “This whole thing sucks. Cry all you need.”

“I’ll be alright now,” Lyna assured them with a smile. She sniffled once more and pulled back to scrub at her face. She reached for her water skin and took a long drink, washing away the thick spit her tears had caused in her mouth. Once she put away the water, Solas claimed her mouth. He kissed her sweetly, gently, his tongue dancing with hers, and she sighed into his mouth and leaned against him again. When they finally parted, Lyna leaned her head back against Thema’s shoulder.

“It has been far too long,” Solas whispered as he looked at them both.

“Fourteen years, seven months, and twelve days,” Thema said promptly. “But who’s counting?” A warm, calloused hand caressed each of their cheeks and they both sighed.

“I am so sorry that it has been so long,” Solas told them. In their hair he found the braids of their love for him, hidden beneath braids of their office as Evanuris and kept hidden from view. They knew the dangers of keeping his love in their hair, but they could not forsake it. Lyna watched Solas swallow hard and she reached out to stroke the braid of her love under his left ear. Thema reached too, and in silence they stood there, each holding a braid of hair that was infused with their love.

Thema was the one who broke first, leaning forward to crush Solas’s lips with hers. Her hands pushed and tugged at Lyna ineffectually until finally, she understood Thema’s intent. Lyna fell to her knees and pulled open the laces of Solas’s trousers. She pulled them down his hips and caught his cock in her mouth. It was spongy and limp, but it jerked and began to grow as soon as Lyna’s mouth closed around it. She heard Solas cry out into Thema’s mouth as his hips bucked against her mouth.

“Wait,” he gasped but was ignored by both women as Lyna continued to suck him to hardness and Thema bit his neck. “You do not- Ah! You do not need to-”

“We want to,” Thema declared.

“Let us worship you,” Lyna added, looking up at Solas as she rubbed her cheek against his growing erection. He looked down at her and choked on a moan. “Let us prove that our devotion and love have not waned.” Thema sucked the flesh of his neck into her mouth and he groaned as she bit hard enough to leave a bruise. He would be covered in them by morning, Lyna knew, from both of them. Then Thema fell to her knees as well and cupped his sack in her hand.

“Let us worship you,” she echoed, her thumb massaging the weight of him in her hand. Solas sucked in a breath as he swelled to sudden fullness, completely hard from the sight of them prostrating before his cock and their words.

“Alright,” he murmured, sounding helpless as he leaned heavily against the wall at his back. Lyna sucked his tip into her mouth again as Thema lavished his testicles with attention. Solas began to moan from their efforts, yanking his tunic off after a few moments. He left on the necklace he had worn for an age, the jawbone that they had gifted him for an event long forgotten. Lyna reached up to touch it reverently and her fingers met Thema’s. They looked at each other across Solas’s cock, lyrium blue meeting Fade purple, and then Lyna released his cock from her mouth. She bit the top of Solas’s thigh, marking him, while Thema bobbed her head enthusiastically on his cock. Lyna noticed that one of Thema’s hands was already massaging Solas’s anus while her other had slipped into her trousers.

Lyna took the opportunity that Thema’s vigorous deep throating provided and stripped herself quickly. She knew every strap and buckle on her armor so intimately that she could release them all in mere moments. It was only seconds before she was naked. She plunged a hand into her own sex as Thema drew her head back and fought for breath. Lyna took over, taking Solas deep in her throat while Thema began to pump her finger inside him. His moans echoed off the ancient stone walls, along with the wet slurping of the worship that Lyna and Thema bestowed upon his cock.

“When did you get naked?” Thema suddenly asked, and Lyna choked around Solas’s dick as she laughed. She pulled back and coughed hard. Thema claimed the cock they shared again while Lyna struggled to clear her lungs.

“While you were distracted,” she finally answered. Solas reached down and pushed on the back of Thema’s head, keeping himself deep in her throat. With his other hand, he pinched and pulled on one of Lyna’s nipples. She moaned, looking up at him gratefully as she used one hand to massage his balls and her other to thrust her fingers inside herself.

Eyes narrowed in pleasure met hers, his lips parted around his moaning breaths and his brows drawn low in desperation. “I love you,” she whispered up to him, and his eyes shot wide.

“Lyna! Thema!” he shouted, the muscles of his core rippling as he spent his load down Thema’s throat. The hand that Thema had been using to pleasure herself gripped Solas’s hip as his orgasm continued on. When she was finally released, she gasped and coughed, deprived of air just a little too long, but she smiled up at Solas.

“We are yours,” Thema vowed. Lyna nodded eagerly.

“Take us,” Lyna added.

Solas sank to his knees with them and pulled them into his embrace. “My heart,” he whispered brokenly, holding them tightly.


	6. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally reunited after their long sleep, the lovers enjoy a quiet moment together.  
> Written by lehavashadowsun

Skyhold may be full of two-dimensional cut outs in familiar forms but now it was home again. He sat with his back against the headboard, one woman tight to his side with his arm around her waist, her head buried under his chin. The smell of roses, fresh from a bath, filled his nose, along with the scent of just her.  His other woman claimed his lap, her head laid on his thigh, one hand on Lyna’s thigh, the other around his own waist. Ink-stained fingers tangled in starlight colored hair, tracing lazy patterns into a sensitive scalp.

Centuries apart, unable to find each other in the Fade, and now together again. There had been tears, and plenty of kisses, tangled up in a heap in the rain of the Fallow Mire. He’d sent them away on some nonsensical mission before the Veil had been raised, unknowing of what might happen to them but wanting to keep them safe. When the Inquisitor had returned to the Mire after the destruction of Haven he had wandered the Fade only to throw himself out of it as his heart surged into his throat. The mage hadn’t even bothered to grab armor or staff, wrapped feet slapping against mud and wet grass, focused only on one point.

They had been there, tucked away in a small cave, safe from the elements and time, a hastily cast barrier barely holding together after all this time protecting them from predators and undead. Simple enough to break, most of his mana expended waking them from uthenera. They had been dazed and confused, stumbling into the rain before everything snapped into place. First came the tears and relief, then the yelling. The Inquisitor and the two others had found them then, both pale-haired women shouting at him in Elvhen for what he’d done until they were red in the face.

The Iron Bull had given him a knowing smile and a hard smack on the back as they made their way to Skyhold, laughing throatily. On the other hand, the Inquisitor kept a stony silence, eyeing the two new women and how they interacted with Solas, pointed ears pinned back in distaste.

Solas would have fallen asleep like that, finally at peace for the first time in a long time, if not for the creep of fingers across his hip. A smirk curled the corner of his mouth. He’d been expecting this, wondering if his women were too tired to satiate their desires after their sleep, and it seemed at least one was not. When calloused fingertips plucked the ties of his trews open he could only chuckle. His own fingers tapped the nose of the woman in his lap, getting a scrunched look of offense in return.

“Do you not wish to wait, mavhenan?” He murmured, tone reproachful though his eyes gleamed with lust and affection.

Thema merely snorted and returned to what she was doing. He was half hard for her already, sluggish blood reawakening with his lovers by his side. The soft, spongy head of his cock was slipped into a hot and eager mouth, while the star-touched elf shifted to lay between his legs. Her own were crossed at the ankle, waving in the air as she urged him to harden while her hands played over the skin of his hips with the bite of nails. His groans were soft, bitten back so as not to wake his other lover, as he swelled in her mouth,  hips lifting off the bed.

It was a languid affair for the moment, slow bob of the head, tongue exploring and remapping the bulge of veins, drinking in the taste of his pleasure. Until she jerked her head back with a yelp, rubbing her forehead. “Lyna!” Lyrium blue glared at fade purple for a moment, more upset over the magic than the flick of it.

“Starting without me?” The Huntress pouted even as her eyes shone.

“You were asleep. Early bird gets the worm.”

Lyna deepened her pout though the two women were merely teasing each other. “You could have poked me, vhenan. That’s not fair at all.” While they teased each other hands were wandering. Touching each other, caressing Solas’ body and cock.

Trying to ignore the sensation of touch, the affection in it, the mage cleared his throat and tried to adopt a stern tone. It was ruined by the rasp of desire and his moans. “Andruil, Ghilan’nain. Enough.”

As if no time had passed at all their reactions were the same. Thema bristled, glaring at him for using the other name while Lyna flushed, pupils dilating and squirming a little. Now he had their attention and he planned on keeping it. “This is my room, my territory. My domain, my rules.” His hands cupped their faces, a little thread of darkness running through his eyes and lent strength to his voice. “Now strip.”

Both of them stared at him for a breath, eyes wide and growing dark. Then they were moving, shedding threadbare clothing still stitched with the magic of Arlathan, baring soft skin, and pebbled nipples, thighs growing moist with their arousal. It wasn’t often he pulled this on them, content and comfortable with them taking the lead when they were all together, but when he did… He played the long game, keeping them on their toes and testing their limits for many cycles of moon and sun.

As they undressed so did he, taking his time. Standing from the bed he teased them, the soft ‘thwip thwip’ of the skinny belt coming loose, hitting the floor with a thud. Back to them as he bent at the waist to unwrap thighs and feet, and smirked when he had to smack away a hand with a little bit of force magic. It was Thema cradling her hand, a playful scowl on her lips, while Lyna was staring quite pointedly at his rear. His heart and stomach did a flop, still not quite believing that he had found his heart again, that they were there on his bed in their former home. The mage straightened, taking his tunic with the motion, tossing it on the floor. His cock was bare now, pressed against the green leather of his undershirt, pre-cum pooling under the hood and making a mess. For the moment he ignored it as deft fingers undid the shirt and shucked off his torn pants, now naked in the slight chill of the room.

It was Lyna who was on her knees when he turned around, leaning forward, wanting to touch, while Thema was sprawled across the bed, head pillowed against her lovers’ hip. Both were watching with hunger, bitten lips and flexing fingers. It was the first to whom he crooked his finger at and whom he kissed, tongues tangling together around nips. “So beautiful, ma lath,” Solas crooned, picking the different colors out of deep amethyst, delighting in the way her pupils flared so wide as to be the black between stars. “You’ve been so good for me.” He tangled his fingers in her milky hair, nudging her down to his cock.

The seal of plush lips around him, the hungry suckling, the way her throat welcomed him, made him throw his head back, struggling to keep his eyes open against the onslaught. His mouth fell open, harsh pants and guttural sounds ripped from his chest. Lightning crackled under his skin with every pull of her mouth, every groan, and sound of pleasure she made, and he almost came when she pulled away to rub his cock against her cheek. The mage’s head fell forward watching her grin at him before taking him back in, one hand clasping his hip, the other cupping his sac. “You look so good like this,” He rasped, thumb tracing the flush of pink over cheekbones that swept back into her sharp ears.

It was a shake, a shudder, a deep moan that caused him to roll his hips against his wife’s mouth.

A glance over at his other wife sent a spiral of displeasure and hot arousal through his chest. She still laid sprawled on the bed, eyes watching Lyna suck his cock, but her hands were busy between her legs. Solas had to hide his grin, knowing she was doing it on purpose even though she could likely get off without touch just from watching the two of them. Thema enjoyed plucking his strings, pushing as hard as she could to see what he’d do, just as Lyna could at times, and coming up with a suitable punishment was as heady as doling it out.

Fingers grasped Lyna’s chin, stopping the motion of her head. There was a plaintive whine, a pout around a mouthful as he pulled her off. “While you have been so good, my love, our wife has not.” Her eyes sought out the other woman, thighs clenching as she saw what she was doing, but wickedness crept into her gaze as well.

“Do you want me to help, Solas?” Her tone was sugar sweetness coated over glee. Their bond may be gone but they all knew each other well enough to know what the answer would be and what was coming. So when Lyna reached for their lover, grasping her wrists and pinning her hands over her head, he said nothing.

His own hands took hold of the Huntress’ ankles, dragging her to the edge of the bed, and spread her legs so that he could see how her cunt glistened with her juice. “You know better than this, Andruil.” Solas chuckled at her ‘fuck you!’ for the use of the despised name and smacked her lightly on her sex, palm coming away wet while both women gasped, his cock jerking at the sound. “Do not expect gentleness.”

Magic smoothed out over her skin, concentrated between her legs, spilling into her cunt. It was hot and cold, the tingle of spice, filling and spreading her. Hips arched off the bed, legs straining against his hold as she nearly screamed, body overwhelmed by the sensation but unable to find relief. It echoed on the stone, making his blood rush and Lyna moan, squirming on the bed. A brief lock of eyes and his fade-touched lover settled over Thema’s face, grinding down into her mouth. The distraction was eagerly welcomed, the motion of jaw and lips, the pleasure on Lyna’s face as she rode her face, knees shifting to hold down her lovers’ hand so her own could grope and play with her breasts, pinching and pulling at her own nipples.

Solas groaned, stroking himself to the sight as he kept an eye on the magic he was using. Never would he let it settle into a predictable rhythm, pushing and pulling at the strings to make it swell or retreat, little lulls to let the archer think it might be over before it rose again. He could see her sex twitching and flexing, blood flushing the soft flesh as she struggled against the magic binding her ankles to the side of the bed. Lyna found her peak as he watched, calling out their names, shaking and trembling, mouth open to draw in large gulps of air, dropping forward to her hands as Thema swallowed her cum down, slick drenching her chin and cheeks.

A thumb ran over Ghilan’nain’s bottom lip, garnering her attention through the foggy haze of ecstasy. His offered cock was taken with hunger, her mouth insistent and he was so close already. The vibrations of her voice as Thema punched through her climax, continuing to suck and lick and torment her into a painful sensitivity and a hopeful second peak. His balls ached, ready to spend their load and when he was taken into Lyna’s throat, he came with a shout. It was swallowed happily, the Goddess pulling back so that his seed painted her face, coating her lips, dripping down her chin.

Lyna threw herself to the side, still shaking from climax, thighs twitching and gasping for air. Too sensitive for the moment to touch. She watched them, reaching out a hand to stroke over Thema’s sweat slick stomach, muscles quivering at the onslaught of sensation. “Thema, vhenan, so beautiful.”

The magic was brought to an end as tears started to fall from blue eyes, broken voice begging for mercy. Solas kissed them away, hands smoothing over the seizing body. “Vhenan,” Three fingers slipped easily into her drenched passage and Thema curled around him, sobbing through the pleasure, falling over the cliff in mere seconds. She sagged to the bed, body rippling with relief.

Bodies were cleaned with a wet rag, all three in a tangled knot under the blankets and furs, touching each other in reassurance. Solas could feel sleep coming for him, true sleep this time, safe in the arms of his wives, his mates; safe in the knowledge that they would start anew, that madness would not return to blue eyes, that amethyst would not need to cry again, and that he would strive to always be worthy of them for all time.

In the last dim recollections of consciousness he saw Thema raise her head, ears perked, staring at the door. A snarl was issued in the silence, and the door clicked shut.


	7. Adder's Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas wakes in the arms of his wives, happy for the first time since leaving uthenera. It will be a long road ahead for all of them, Thedas less accepting of their dynamic than Elvhenan was but they have each other. Their first hurdle is the Inquisitor herself, Dalish born, human named, and infatuated with him.
> 
> Just don’t let his women find out.  
> Prompted by Katalyna Rose  
> Written by lehavashadowsun
> 
> Direct sequel to Reunion

When he woke he had to lay there for some time to let his mind settle. His women were in his arms again, all tangled legs and arms, hair in his mouth and wrapped around him, his ass exposed to the cold air of the room. It seemed Thema was right in one of her Earthian sayings: the more things change, the more they stay the same. The theft of furs and blankets, the pair of legs thrown across his waist, the consistent diet of locks when they didn’t braid their hair before bed. He could find no reason to be upset, indeed he was simply filled with joy, seeing the color of his lovers again, bleeding into this world.

So he laid there until he had to move, to answer nature’s call. Moving about the room he felt the ache of the night in his muscles, the first round hardly the last one. His toes were trying to cramp, his shoulders stinging with the mark of their nails, bruises from their teeth in his neck. Thema especially seemed to be quite keen on claiming him and after a whisper to Lyna they both had attacked his skin with fervor. Skin was cleaned with a damp cloth, making note of every mark on his body, a few in places he didn’t know they had gotten to, including a pretty nice welt on his ass. That was going to make his work in the rotunda a bit uncomfortable.

He had left his mark on them as well, in the mess of their hair where only the vhenan’nahr remained braided from greedy fingers, swollen lips from kisses and more, the imprint of his teeth on the inside of their thighs. A smile was constant on his lips as he dressed, unable to look away from them for long. They slept through his noise, now in each other’s arms in his absence and he couldn’t bear to wake them to bid them a small farewell even though he’d be but a few feet away. If the bond had survived the Veil he would have pulsed his sorrow of separation at them, receiving sleepy replies.  

Stepping into the rotunda he almost missed her. She sat on the couch, hands clasped in her lap so tightly her knuckles were white. Gray eyes watched him move, keenly seeing the small limp, and narrowing when they found the bruises on his neck. “Solas.”

The mage almost jumped, sharp inhale in the quasi-silence but calmed himself enough to face the Inquisitor. “Lavellan. How may I help you?” Ever since the Fallow Mire Delilah had been stonily silent and distant. He expected it had something to do with his wives and the withholding of information about them. Speaking of them would have opened wounds he wasn’t sure he would be able to staunch, so he had not said anything. 

“How could you?” Delilah rose from her seat, bare feet slapping on the stone floor as she stalked to him. “You lied to me! You led me on!” She was in his face now, her cheeks growing red with anger, eyes glistening with tears. “Was this a game to you? Was I just something for you to collect?”

His temper flared, every muscle snapping rigid and he had to force himself to calm down. “I never lied to you or led you on.” Solas’ voice seemed even, almost blank like his face, but he could feel the edges cracking. He was supposed to be _happy_ right now, not have a girl only a few minutes worth of his life span screaming at him. What did she mean anyway? Had she found out?

A game? Part of a collection? Just as his temper had flared now his blood ran cold. Was she saying what he thought she was?

“You did!” The warrior wailed. Now she cried and it only repulsed him. “You spent time with me, you _courted_ me, you _kissed_ me! And now, you- You say you have them too, that you have _wives_!” 

“I never kissed you.” The words tumbled from his mouth without even thinking about it. That time in the Fade, when he was trying to discern what damage the mark had done in a dream state, she had kissed him. He’d pushed her away, stammered out something and ended it there. The memory of Haven had been fled and he visited his own of his missing heart, two pieces ripped from his chest, bleeding out because of his own mistake. “You are seeing things that are not there, Inquisitor.” 

Gray eyes flared wide, mouth open in shock then closing in anger. Her hand lashed out, seeking to strike him but he leaned back, fingertips whistling past his nose. Delilah shrieked with outrage, “You just want as many women as you can have! Was that your plan?! Would I be only for the evenings and some mornings when you’re bored of them?!”

He almost snarled, a habit picked up from his Huntress, and stars above he wished he could. Then her hand shot out again and it was aimed at something no one touched beyond his heart, something so sacred to him… When her fingers closed around the blackened jawbone he struck out. His own hand cracked down on hers, the sound echoing like a whip crack in the rotunda. 

It was like time slowed for a moment, as she snatched her hand back, shock on her face, and he truly snarled. “Do not touch that again! And how dare you say that about my wives. I am theirs, they are mine. I love them with everything I am and have been. You would never, and could never, understand that.” 

“If she touches him again I’ll cut off her hands.” A growl sounded out behind him, the elvhen words almost a soothing balm. Of course, they had been woken due to the screaming. He knew who it was that spoke and he tried so hard not to smirk. 

His woman leaned against the mouth of the hallway at the back of the rotunda, barely dressed in anything. Lyna was glaring at the Inquisitor, violet like storms in the night and magic played over her hands in a warning sign. Thema hung over her shoulder, cheek pressed to the side of her head, teeth bared in a sinister smile. Both of them only wore their under tunics, the bruises from his mouth on their thighs on display. 

Though the words were in a forgotten language the Dalish warrior understood the tone well enough. She shrank back, eyes darting between the two women. “I-I-”

“I’ll help.” Lyna’s smile was sugar sweet, a poison coated blade. “Which hand do you want?” 

He should reprimand them, tell them to stop, but he couldn’t stop the smile now. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Thema purred into her ear, eyeing up the poor woman. “I’ll start with the fingers, then the hand. Might as well take the arm to even things out. And the foot… up to the knee, maybe? Don’t want her to be lopsided.” 

Lyna laughed, a hand reaching back to cup her wife’s cheek. “You are so evil. I love it.” A kiss was dropped on the opposite cheek. “She doesn’t really need fingernails, does she?”

Now Andruil laughed, but it was evil, and Solas tensed for a moment, seeing red in her eyes that was no longer there. “You call me evil.” 

Delilah stammered something, now as pale as snow. The glance at Solas showed that he was enjoying this and she would find no protection there. She fled the rotunda, still cradling the hand he had smacked away. It wasn’t over, not by a long shot but the first shot had crossed the bow and it was in their favor. 

“Solas.”

A hand was being offered to him, his women relaxing in the Dalish girls’ absence. Lyna gave him a loving smile, the murder in her eyes replaced with affection, and Thema was nuzzling her neck. “Come back to bed, ma isha.”


	8. Fake it Until You Make It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "3some AU: The Evanuris can die, but their spirits live on. When their bodies die those closest to them risk being taken over. The death of Andruil and Ghilan'nain elevate a slave and Mistress of the Hunt, and a woman out of her World, and the death of a fearsome beast." Prompted by lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“Don’t go, Lyna!” Thema pleaded again, following Lyna around the tiny room as she finished strapping on her armor and gathered up her weapons. Thema spent altogether too much time in Lyna’s tiny room, where most of the space was taken up by her wardrobe, which held all the fancy dresses she wore when she danced and when she was bartered away to the highest bidder. Nearly all of the remaining space was taken up by the tiny cot Lyna slept in, with just barely enough room for her armor stand and the little cabinet that held what she needed to maintain both her armor and her wardrobe as well as some healing supplies that she’d smuggled from the infirmary. With Thema in the room as well, they were all but bumping into each other, which did not help Lyna maintain a respectful distance from her friend.

“I have no choice, Thema,” Lyna reminded her. She paused her work, dagger belt only half buckled and turned to her friend. She touched her own chin and her forehead and the dark purple lines there. “This is blood writing, falon. It is made of my own blood and binds me to Ghilan’nain for as long as I live. I have to go.”

“But you’re not even healed yet!” Thema cried. “How can she ask you to hunt with her when you’re still dealing with broken bones? It’s insane!”

“She neither knows nor cares what condition I’m in when I’m returned to her,” Lyna told her, tightening the straps on her belt and donning her quiver. “As long as payment is made and the buyer makes no complaints about me, she is content.”

“But how can she even do this to you!” Thema cried, frustrated. She tried to pace, but there simply wasn’t enough room to do so and she ended up throwing herself down on Lyna’s cot. Lyna winced, hoping the flimsy legs would hold. “How can she possibly justify selling you like this!”

“I’m only worth what I can do,” Lyna reminded her softly. “As it happens, I am worth a great deal. Kings and queens have offered Ghilan’nain castles to buy me from her permanently. They have offered their lands, a thousand other slaves, all the magical beasts Ghilan’nain could ever want. She refused them all. When Elgar’nan bought my maidenhead, he paid Ghilan’nain with two dragons, his weight in diamonds, and my weight in sapphires and he kept me for only one full day. I am worth far too much to Ghilan’nain for her to truly risk me.” She paused her preparations and put a hand on Thema’s cheek, kissing her forehead instead of her lips as she wished she could do. “I’ve gone out hunting in worse conditions,” she assured the strange woman who sat on her bed. “And this time I won’t even be hunting, not really. I’ll probably bag some small game in case the hunt runs long and we have to stay out longer than a week, but I go with Andruil and Ghilan’nain themselves. _They_ will be hunting. I will be assisting.”

Thema glared up at her, not appeased, and poked Lyna’s ribs gently. She hissed and moved away, the pain sharp even through her armor. “You’re not healed,” Thema repeated. “They’re going to get you killed! And then what will I do? I barely have a handle on this crazy language of yours and I still don’t know which fork to use first. Why do they impose all these manners on slaves, anyway? It’s not like most of us are ever seen. And why do they even have slaves to begin with? We’re the same as them!”

“But we are not,” Lyna told Thema. “The Evanuris… They have powers that I could never dream of wielding! I cannot create animals from driftwood the way Ghilan’nain can. I cannot summon a weapon from thin air and use it to kill a beast as Andruil can. I am not like them.”

“So they know a few tricks and they don’t share,” Thema dismissed, her hand cutting through the air. “That doesn’t make them gods!” Lyna merely smiled. Thema hadn’t seen the things she had seen.

“You do not even have magic, falon,” Lyna reminded her sadly.

“I could still kill them,” Thema said darkly. Lyna froze, then glanced around as though she could spot eavesdroppers in the tiny space of her room.

“Don’t say things like that!” she hissed, panicked. She gripped Thema’s arm hard enough to make her squirm. “It is treason, or worse, to say things like that! I could not bear it if they killed you for such words! And you would suffer greatly and beg for death before they gave it to you! Don’t say things like that.” Then she forced herself to release Thema’s arm. She reached up to her hair and picked up the two braids in the mass of creamy silk. “You see these? These are my duties. The magic of what I am is woven through them. You’ve seen how many Andruil and Ghilan’nain wear, their hair filled with them. The nobles have many, as well. I have two.” She picked up the smaller one, the one strewn with a few wooden beads, and all but thrust it at Thema. “This one is my responsibility as Mistress of the Hunt for Ghilan’nain. I lead three dozen other slaves and we bring in all the meat consumed by this palace. And when Ghilan’nain goes hunting, with Andruil or alone, I am duty bound to accompany her.” She let that braid drop and picked up the other one. It was much thicker, strands threaded with silverite beads and gems. “This is my duty as a courtesan. Look at it, Thema!” she demanded when Thema turned away. “Look at it. There is magic woven through it. It would alert Ghilan’nain if I ever shirked my duty. If I fought or refused to service whoever had bought me or displeased them in any way, she would know. And I would receive far worse than a few fractured ribs and broken fingers. _I have no choice._ I must go.” Then she snagged her ragged cloak and threw it over her shoulders. She stopped before she left the room and looked back over her shoulder. “You wear your lovely, starlight hair in a single braid, falon. One braid for your duty as a lowly slave. You feel the magic in it, too. We are both bound and we _cannot_ escape.” Then she left. She did not see the determination in Thema’s eyes as she went.

It was three days before Andruil and Ghilan’nain caught up to their prey. Three days of trailing behind her mistresses silently, carrying the heavy weight of their tent and bedrolls and cooking utensils on her back as she trotted to keep up. Three days of watching them laugh together, carefree. And three nights of being commanded into their tent to assist them in pleasuring each other. And then she was literally kicked from their tent to make her bed between the roots of the trees, nothing but her old cloak to keep her warm and nothing at all to cushion her body. It was nothing she hadn’t endured countless times before, but since Thema had pointed out all the ways in which it was unfair she found herself noticing more than she usually did.

Ordinarily, Lyna would shut herself down during these trips, lock away everything that made her who she was to protect it. This time she could not. Her three broken fingers still plagued her, wrapped to each other in increasingly ratting bandages. She found herself huffing her breaths as the swelling around her fractured ribs made it difficult to breathe. She found herself completely repulsed by everything done in the tent at night, found herself imagining instead Thema’s soft body to get through it without throwing up. Even so, she was beaten for not being wet for her queens. That was almost preferable to the alternative.

And then, at last, they caught up to the beast they’d been tracking. It was something Ghilan’nain had recently created. She’d set it loose a few months prior to let it grow accustomed to life in the woods, make it a challenge to find and take down. Lyna didn’t know what it was supposed to be, but it was monstrous. It was easily taller than all three of them if they stood on each other’s shoulders, with armored plates on its body and sharp horns on its face and tail. It screeched so loudly when Andruil and Ghilan’nain whooped and attacked that Lyna thought her eardrums would burst. She hung back, waiting for a signal to join the fight if needed.

Andruil’s dark hair flashed, many braids left loose, as she jumped to dodge the beast’s charge. She laughed cruelly as she shot a magical arrow between two armored plates behind the beast’s foreleg. A string appeared in her hand, connecting to the arrow, and she tugged as the beast spun. The beast shrieked in pain as the armored plate was torn free.

Ghilan’nain’s high-pitched laughter sounded even over the shrieking of her beast. “Well played, vhenan!” she called. Golden hair streaked past Lyna as Ghilan’nain rushed the beast. As it charged her, she leaped. She landed just behind its head and drove her dagger into the back of its neck. Her strike seemed to do little more than enrage the thing, and she was forced to leap away off its back. Andruil laughed.

“Losing your touch, ma lath?” Andruil called to her.

“It would be such a same to steal the kill from you!” Ghilan’nain replied, though her damaged pride made her reckless. As Andruil shot an arrow into the bleeding flesh revealed by the armored plate she’d torn free, Ghilan’nain rushed the beast again. She did not calculate for its writhing in pain as she leaped, and instead of a clean landing on its back she ended up impaled on one of the spikes on its face.

 _“Ghilan’nain!”_ Andruil shrieked, voice shrill and hoarse. “Slave! Save her!” she commanded, furiously shooting arrows that merely glanced off its armor. Lyna leapt into action, an arrow of wood from her non-enchanted bow burying itself in one of the beast’s eyes. She leaped but did not have the power to bound onto such a tall creature’s back in one jump. Instead, she aimed for its leg and cut her hands on its armored plates as she used them to climb. Once on its back, she narrowly dodged one of Andruil’s desperate arrows as she climbed onto its face. A second arrow from Lyna’s bow took out its other eye and then she used its distraction to snag Ghilan’nain’s limp and bleeding body off its tusk.

Lyna twisted her ankle badly when she landed on the forest floor again, Ghilan’nain’s bleeding form clutched against her chest. She laid the queen down near Andruil, who instantly abandoned the fight despite the fact that the beast was still very much alive to try to tend to her lover. Desperate and furious tears fell down Andruil’s face as she suffused the other woman with her magic.

“Kill it!” she commanded Lyna, not bothering to look up. Lyna took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in her cut hands and broken fingers, ignoring the way her fractured ribs protested the breath, ignoring the way her ankle screamed as she ran back at the shrieking creature.

She was shooting to keep it distracted rather than to harm it, trying to find any weakness to exploit, when she heard a shriek behind her.

“Lyna!” She turned, taking her attention off the writhing beast for a moment. It used her distraction to charge, but she spun out of the way and it rammed into a tree instead.

“Thema!” Lyna cried, catching sight of her friend. Thema shot an arrow from her own bow and managed to hit the weak point behind its foreleg that Andruil had created. Now riddled with arrows, the new wound did little more than enrage the beast. Lyna had been searching for an artery to pierce through that spot, perhaps make the beast bleed out, but thus far hadn’t had any luck. “What are you doing here?”

“Tracking you!” Thema replied, shooting again and striking the blinded creature’s eye socket. The arrow didn’t go deep enough, but it maddened the beast. It spun and charged the wrong direction. “I couldn’t just let you go! And look at you! Hands bleeding, limping, fighting this thing alone! Where are they?”

“Ghilan’nain is hurt,” Lyna called to Thema as they raced after their retreating foe. “Andruil is tending her.”

“Fuckheads,” Thema muttered. Lyna slanted a glance at her, not understanding the strange euphemism, but ignored it. Another arrow loosed from Lyna’s bow lodged itself under a plate of armor behind the beast’s head, and that gave Lyna an idea.

“Keep it distracted!” Lyna called to Thema. Then she raced forward. She leapt up as high as she could and grabbed on to the beast’s tail instead of the armor plate she’d been aiming for. It shrieked and reared, but an arrow glancing off its face soon distracted it once more. Lyna climbed as quickly as she could, balancing precariously with her arms out beside her as she raced over its back to its head. Before she could strike and push the lodged arrow into its brain, she heard a shriek as the beast stamped its front legs.

“Shit!” Thema bellowed. The shriek, all too familiar as Andruil’s, was swiftly cut off as the beast’s legs met the dirt again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, it just crushed them!”

A string of curses left Lyna’s mouth as she kicked out. The arrow was shoved into the beast’s brain all the way to the fletching. She unsheathed a dagger and used it to pry up the armor plate more, then stabbed. The beast cried out so loudly that Lyna felt blood trickling from her ears as suddenly the world went silent, her eardrums burst.

“Shoot inside its mouth!” she shrieked to Thema. Or at least, she hoped she did. She felt the burn in her throat from yelling, thought she formed the correct words with her mouth, but she couldn’t hear anything. She took a knee to steady herself as she drew her bow as far back as it would go. The tip of her arrow was only inches from the exposed flesh. The beast suddenly dropped its head, likely with an arrow in the roof of its mouth, and Lyna loosed the arrow. Its skull angled down, the arrow vanished inside the beast’s head, shot hard enough to tear through its brain.

Slowly, the beast fell onto its side. Lyna rolled as it collapsed, finally dead, then simply lay on the ground. Her entire body hurt, the world still silent to her even as Thema rushed over and cradled her head. Her mouth was moving and she was gesturing frantically. Her starlight hair brushed Lyna’s cheek, lyrium blue eyes wide and frightened. She held a pale hand over a gash in Lyna’s side that she didn’t remember getting, ripped right through her armor. But she still couldn’t hear a thing.

“Should have kissed you while I could,” she told Thema with a smile, or hoped she did. Thema fell still, mouth closing and gesturing ceased. Then she leaned down and soft lips met hers. Thema tasted of blood and sweat, but maybe that was from her own mouth. Still, it was was lovely, finally kissing the strange woman from another world. Thema pulled back and Lyna smiled at her. Her eyes were wet, but she looked angry. She said something but Lyna wasn’t well-versed enough in reading lips to know what it was. It looked like a command, but Lyna was past such things now. In death, she would obey no one.

She could feel herself fading, all her many injuries stealing her strength. She’d lost a lot of blood, hit her head, probably punctured a lung as her fractured ribs broke. She was certainly having trouble breathing. She coughed wetly and saw the spray of red drops. Thema’s eyes widened in panic, but Lyna didn’t know how to tell her that it was okay. She’d never be bartered away again. She’d never go hunting while injured again. She’d never be an object rather than a person again. In death, she would be free. And at least she’d gotten to kiss Thema once before she died.

She noticed something out of the corner of her eye even as her vision darkened. She frowned and summoned the energy to look. Her eyes widened in shock at the state of the queens she’d been sent to protect. Their bodies were crushed, a mass of pulp and blood. But they were not dead. Evanuris did not die, and she watched as their spirits rose from their bodies. Two distinct patterns of swirling energy rose, one blood red and the other pale lavender. They swirled in confused circles for a few moments, gathering into themselves. Lyna had only a moment to curse the stars that she was so close to a dead Evanuris, to hate that Thema would be caught as well, a bright and beautiful spirit silenced. And then the energy rushed at them.

Blood red surrounded Thema and she convulsed, seizing on the ground. Pale lavender suffused Lyna, and she could feel herself screaming though still she heard nothing. But the pain was unimaginable, every cell in her body being torn apart and put back together.

A whisper in her mind, a voice screaming at her from far away. Pain and fear in that voice, ancient and powerful, called Lyna to submit. But no, she was already dead. She didn’t fear reprisal and she told it to go to the Void. To her everlasting surprise, it did. The whispers faded, but the pain continued until Lyna blacked out.

When Lyna at last woke, the sounds of the forest were loud in her ears and the pain in her body was gone. She groaned as she sat up and blinked. She was covered in old blood, dry and crusty, but there were no wounds anywhere on her body. Her broken fingers were healed, her lungs drew breath easily, the gash in her side was gone though her armor remained torn.

She should not have still been herself, she thought. That was how it worked! The power of an Evanuris transferred to another of the People when they died and their personality overwrote that of the new body. The vessel died and the Evanuris lived on. Yet Lyna was still herself, even that whisper of the queen in her mind completely silent. But there was no denying the power she could feel coursing through her veins. It was white-hot and intense, but she kept it all under her skin. She didn’t understand.

She looked over at Thema when she saw movement and braced for the fury of Andruil. Surely she would know that Ghilan’nain’s personality was gone, her lover somehow truly dead while Lyna lived on. She doubted her death would be swift.

But Andruil blinked at Lyna, looking confused. “Lyna?” she said, voice small. “What just happened? I feel like I got ripped to shreds.” Lyna’s jaw dropped. Andruil did not even know her name and would never say such things.

“You’re still you!” she cried and threw herself at Thema. She tackled the woman into the dirt and, damn the consequences, kissed her. But Thema welcomed the touch, kissing her back.

“What happened?” Thema asked, sounding shell-shocked.

“Evanuris don’t die,” Lyna told her. “Their spirits transfer to another of the Elvhen when their bodies die. We were closest and I thought you were doomed. I was dying so I didn’t mind as much, but you… I thought Andruil would kill your mind to take your body. But she didn’t! Maybe it’s because you’re not of this world, but you’re still you!”

“But what about you?” Thema asked, pushing some bloodstained hair back from her face. “I saw that cloud or whatever it was fly right at you!”

“I don’t know,” Lyna admitted, sitting back. She frowned at her hands as she thought about it, running over everything that made her unique in her mind. It was a short list. “Oh!” she finally exclaimed. “I was Fade-touched at birth,” she told Thema. “It doesn’t happen often, but in the moment I was born the Fade became a part of me. It’s why my magic is as strong as it is and why my eyes are purple. I’ve _never_ heard of a Fade-touched vessel before. Maybe the Fade within me protected me from Ghilan’nain’s mind.” It seemed as likely as any other explanation, but she didn’t know enough about such magics to be sure.

“Your vallaslin,” Thema said suddenly. She licked her thumb and scrubbed at the dried blood on Lyna’s face. “It’s gone!”

Lyna touched her face as though she’d be able to feel the absence of her slave markings. Then she laughed. “Well, I wanted freedom!” she cried, grinning at Thema. “Now we’re queens!” She doubled over, laughing hysterically.

“But we’re not them,” Thema reminded her when she finally calmed down.

“Who has to know?” Lyna asked with a grin, the heady taste of freedom making her reckless. “If we act the part, who will be able to tell? We know them well, after all. I certainly know them better than anyone else! You’ve spent time with Andruil as her Huntress. We could pretend.”

“Fake it until you make it,” Thema muttered. Lyna raised a brow, assuming it was another idiom from her old world and her old life.

“Exactly,” she said, grinning. Then she looked around for the remains of whatever beast they’d killed. In death, it had reverted back to what it had been. It had never been meant to live, had been made to die, so its carcass no longer existed. Instead, in the middle of the clearing in which Lyna and Thema had fought the giant beast, there was the body of a large, black wolf. All the many dozens of arrows that had been used to kill the beast had fallen away when its form shifted, and all that remained were the two arrows that had killed it. One stuck out of its mouth, shot from Thema’s bow. The other was Lyna’s, buried under the back of its skull and shot with enough force to have pierced the bone between its eyes.

“Where’s that thing we killed?” Thema asked, following Lyna’s gaze to the wolf.

“It’s there,” Lyna told her, nodding at the wolf. “Ghilan’nain’s toys aren’t meant to last past death unless she’s creating a new species. She must have created that thing from the body of a wolf.” It was beautiful, shiny pelt free of blood except on its face, a male beast in excellent form.

“What do we do with it?” Thema asked. Lyna grinned at her.

“Andruil and Ghilan’nain would break it down. Skin it and keep the pelt, eat the meat, maybe take some trophies from what’s left,” Lyna told her.

“Trophies?” Thema asked, frowning at it.

“Don’t you think that skull would make a lovely statement?” Lyna asked her. “Arrow shot so hard it pierced bone. The beast killed us, but we took it down hard in the end.”

“Fake it until you make it,” Thema said again, firmly, grinning at Lyna. “Let’s get to work!” Lyna began to break down the carcass as Thema moved rocks and collected wood for a fire pit. They would stay for a few more days and figure out exactly what to do when they returned. They would not be tortured and killed for a fluke that allowed them to remain themselves instead of being overtaken by their queens. They were free, and in power, and that was not something Lyna would sacrifice, especially not for the kind of death that awaited her if she told the truth.

Besides, she thought as she eyed Thema bending down for a dry branch, she had someone to share the secret with. Lyna smiled.


	9. To Hunt the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "3some AU (per the usual): In hallowed halls newly won the Evanuris come to greet the new Queens, expecting the minds of the old. What surprise to meet those with the magic but not the thoughts, foci responding to the strange women to leave no doubt. The last to arrive, dressed in forest colors and pelts, a man of Fate." Prompted by lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose
> 
> ALMOST direct sequel to Fake it Until You Make It

“They suspect us,” Lyna whispered to Thema as she handed the woman a glass of wine. Her smile was regal, bearing straight and proud. She had plenty of experience playing pretend as a courtesan and dancer, blending into the crowd with ease. She had known the dead queens better than anyone else after spending centuries hunting with them and being forced into their bed when she wasn’t sold to others, and it was far easier for her to play the part. Yet Thema slouched and glared and her manners were wrong.

“Of course they do,” Thema replied with a scowl, gulping her wine. “We’re not who we say we are. They can tell because they’ve spent centuries together.”

“If you’d stand up straight and try a little harder, maybe they wouldn’t be so suspicious,” Lyna said with a sweet smile.

“At least I remembered which fork to use fist,” Thema grumbled, but she did stand up straight. “And I remembered names, so that helped. But Andruil didn’t bother to learn most of their names.”

“Ghilan’nain did,” Lyna reminded her. “I can handle names. You need to seem more like a queen.”

“Pretty sure I’m doing just fine,” Thema groused. “Andruil was a bitch with a stick up her butt and didn’t give two shits about anyone but Ghilan’nain. So my glower should be perfectly in character.” She gulped more wine, then glared at the empty glass.

“Try not to get drunk,” Lyna begged. Thema’s lips twisted in distaste.

“Fine,” she muttered, handing the empty glass off to a serving slave.

“Fen’Harel is fashionably late, as usual,” Lyna commented, scanning the guests. The welcome party for the two queens’ new bodies was small, comparatively, consisting only of the other Evanuris, the heads of the four highest noble families of each king or queen, and enough slaves wearing Andruil’s or Ghilan’nain’s vallaslin to see to everyone’s needs without fail. Fen’Harel’s nobles were already in attendance, but the Wolf himself was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t remember him,” Thema said dismissively. Lyna chuckled.

“He’s quite charming and handsome,” Lyna told her, and interest crept into Thema’s gaze.

“Well, if you’re saying it, then he must be sporting a huge cock,” Thema muttered appreciatively. Lyna giggled just a little too loudly.

“He never bought my company,” she told Thema. Thema rolled her eyes to let Lyna know she was annoyed that her joke was unappreciated. “From what I’ve gathered, both from surfacing memories and from court intrigue as a courtesan, he much prefers his bed partners to be willing, eager, and plentiful.”

“Plentiful?” Thema repeated, a wicked smirk curling her full lips. Lyna found herself entranced briefly by the memory of what those luscious lips had done to her the night before. Then Thema’s words shook her out of it. “Imagine if we double-teamed him. His balls would explode!” Lyna giggled again.

“At least try to maintain the boundaries of propriety for the evening?” Lyna begged. Thema sighed. “We need to mingle a bit, talk to people. Come on. Don’t worry, you can just stand there and look pretty for me. I’ll take care of it.” She threaded her arm through Thema’s and dragged the groaning woman along with her as she moved smoothly from group to group of guests, adopting as many of Ghilan’nain’s mannerisms as she could. Most of the guests seemed more charmed by her than they had by the real Ghilan’nain, their bows or curtsies a little deeper. Thema barely spoke at all, preferring to glower into a fresh wineglass and lean against Lyna’s shoulder in silent displeasure.

Then Lyna turned them away from another group and they were suddenly face to face with Fen’Harel, who had slipped into the party silently, unnoticed. He grinned at them and sketched a gallant and flourishing bow. Lyna raised a brow, resisting the urge to tug on a dark brown braid in his hair and lick those supple, smirking lips.

“My greetings to you and your new forms, ladies,” he said as he straightened. Unerringly, he snagged a wineglass from a passing slave without looking away. “And if it is not too bold of me, might I congratulate you on these lovely new forms.” His eyes traveled boldly down each of them in turn.

“Holy mother fucker,” Thema breathed, brows raised as she oggled Fen’Harel right back. “Sweaty balls of Jesus.” Lyna bit her lip and hoped Fen’Harel didn’t hear, or at least wouldn’t understand if he did.

“So pleased that you approve,” Lyna told him, her tone the perfect blend of sarcasm and sensual purring to leave him wondering if she was flirting or belittling him. His smile widened. She was probably giving away which it was by looking him up and down just as he had done to her. She couldn’t help it, though; he was resplendent in all the colors of the summer forests. Tight, dark green trousers hugged his muscled legs, the long ends of a tunic the color of oak bark hid his no-doubt prominent bulge from her gaze. His coat was the color of moss, patterned with maple leaves in the summer sun. But far more interesting than his choice of clothing was his body. He was broad with muscle, his jaw chiseled by any gods that might exist. His prominent nose lent him a roguish charm and his lips were built for pleasure. His gray-blue eyes were narrowed with mirth, sinful lips tilted up in one corner, and he likely saw right through her to the warmth in her belly.

He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair off Lyna’s forehead. She had to struggle against an instinctive need to flinch away, a leftover from her days as a courtesan, but his touch was so gentle and warm that she found she didn’t mind it. “What a lovely crown,” he observed, eyeing the way she’d tied up and arranged the braids of Ghilan’nain’s duty. Then he turned to Thema and tucked one of her riotous, uneven braids back behind her ear. “Beautiful chaos,” he murmured. He stepped back and looked them both over. “Truly, you are both very blessed in form.”

“Back at’cha, big guy,” Thema purred, and Lyna rolled her eyes. “I’d smash that until you can’t walk!” Lyna closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead as though she could erase the words from her mind.

“Ignore her,” Lyna pleaded. “She is tired, and the transfer can be a bit chaotic for a while.” But Fen’Harel grinned.

“If that means what I think it does,” he told them slyly, “then I find myself… intrigued by the notion.” Lyna coughed slightly and Thema’s eyes widened in delight.

“Give me a time and a place or right here, right now, and we’ll-” Thema began, but Lyna wrapped a hand around her mouth despite her muffled protests. Lyna smiled graciously at Fen’Harel and bowed her head.

“You are too kind,” she told him, backing away with Thema clasped tightly to her side. Humor brightened Fen’Harel’s features as he watched her attempt to control the other woman. “It is lovely to see you again, Fen’Harel.” And then she turned on her heel and ushered Thema away.

“Lovely, indeed,” she heard him say to their retreating backs.

Out in the hall, away from the party, Lyna pushed Thema against the wall. “What was that?” she demanded. Thema snorted.

“I know you wanna tap that,” she told Lyna. Lyna rolled her eyes again.

“You were entirely inappropriate! Propositioning him is one thing, but doing so with such language in front of the highest members of the court… Do you want them to figure us out and torture us to death?” Lyna asked, somewhat unfairly.

“Whatever, we could kick all their asses if they tried it!” Thema declared.

“Thema, darling, they outnumber us and match our power,” Lyna reminded her. “And you do not even have magic to help you! They can do whatever they damn well please to us!”

Thema was silent, meeting Lyna’s steady gaze with a scowl. “Yeah, alright. You’re right, I need to just keep my mouth shut.” Lyna sighed and stepped back.

“Let’s just go, then,” she said. “They’ve given me a headache and I’m tired of playacting.” Thema brightened again.

“Wanna hunt?” she asked, almost bouncing on her toes. Lyna smiled.

“Let’s hunt,” she agreed.

It took them only a few moments to slip through the silent halls of the palace, shared property between Andruil and Ghilan’nain. They donned their armor, finer than anything Lyna had ever had before, collected the bows of Andruil and Ghilan’nain, and snuck out into the forest. They were quiet as they settled into the hunt, the light of the full moons plenty of illumination to guide them. They traveled a few miles from the palace before they began to look around for tracks, wanting to get as far away as they could.

“Here,” Lyna said, waving Thema over. “A wolf.”

“Big one,” Thema commented, nudging the edge of the track with her finger. “Fresh. Maybe an hour?”

“Good eye,” Lyna complimented. Then she grinned up at Thema. “How would you like another skull?”

“We could start a collection!” Thema cried happily. Lyna grinned as they followed the wolf tracks into the forest.

It seemed that the wolf was running for the pleasure of exercise, not following a trail or any game, not fleeing from anything. The wolf was traveling alone, away from its pack. They were a little disappointed about that, preferring the challenge of multiple adversaries, but they’d make do.

They found the wolf drinking out of a stream when they finally caught up after almost losing the trail several times. Their bowstrings did not creak as they were pulled back, made of magic as they were. The arrows formed easily between their fingers. Just before they could shoot, the wind shifted to bring their scent to the wolf and both huntresses froze. The wolf looked up over his shoulder at them but didn’t bolt.

Magic rippled through the air, hiding the wolf, and when it cleared Fen’Harel stood before them instead. He spread out his arms to indicate harmlessness and Lyna shared a glance with Thema before they both lowered their bows.

“The two of you are better trackers than Andruil and Ghilan’nain ever were,” Fen’Harel told them with a grin. Both of them straightened their spines and Lyna clenched her jaw. He couldn’t know…

“Well, considering that they got trampled to death by their own creation, I’d hope we’re better,” Thema quipped. Lyna stayed silent, assessing Fen’Harel for any sign of a threat. He offered none, instead grinning.

“I’d love to know how you did it,” he told them. “How did you keep yourselves through the transfer? Andruil and Ghilan’nain have died far more often than the rest of us and they’ve never had a problem before. In fact, they always seem to come back stronger than before, as though they absorb the best qualities of their vessels. How did you two stay in control?”

“Have you died?” Thema asked curiously.

“Never,” Fen’Harel answered easily. “I like myself. I think I’m rather attractive.”

“On that, we can agree,” Lyna said, deciding to bind him into their confidence. “And now the Wolf is at our mercy. Whatever shall we do?” She smirked at him.

“Ah, so it seems,” he agreed. “What might be the price for my life this evening?”

“Hardcore fucking,” Thema promptly answered, eyeing the front of his dark green trousers, the same ones he’d been wearing at the party. He was missing the coat, but was otherwise still dressed the same.

“My vhenan seems to favor your company,” Lyna told him, smirk growing. “I can’t say I object.”

Fen’Harel sighed dramatically. “To lay with two gorgeous women beneath the light of the full moons in exchange for my life? What a chore!” He pressed the back of his wrist to his forehead and both women chuckled, dropping their bows and approaching. Thema all but ran to him, eager to be the first to receive a kiss from those sinful lips. Fen’Harel greeted her easily, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her deeply.

“Oh, that’s good,” she murmured when he released her. He took Lyna’s hand and spun her as though they were dancing. He caught her and bent her back and devoured her mouth with his. His firm, plush lips were divine, his tongue tasting of wine still, and the frisson of pleasure from the kiss and the intimate position was heady.

Thema was naked by the time Lyna stood on her own again, and both of them laughed. She shrugged and pulled at the laces on Fen’Harel’s pants. He pulled of his tunic for her, bare beneath it. Lyna leaned over Thema, now on her knees, to kiss him again. She bit his lip and tugged, her hands roaming the sculpted panes of muscles on his chest and stomach, satin skin warm under her fingers. He gasped when Thema freed him, then gasped again when she took him into her mouth without hesitation and sucked him to hardness.

Lyna bit his neck, sucking his flesh into her mouth. “She’s good, isn’t she?” Lyna murmured into his ear. “It gets better.” He groaned and pulled at Lyna’s Amor. She chuckled and help him to strip her. Once her breasts were freed, he fastened his lips around her nipple and sucked hard. His hands kneaded her bare ass and she moaned when he bit the tender flesh of her breast. When his concentration failed as Thema sucked enthusiastically on his cock, Lyna slipped out of his gasp to fall to her knees beside Thema.

“Share,” she demanded, flicking Thema’s ear. Thema whined in protest and took him into her throat instead. Lyna rolled her eyes and bit Thema’s ear. Finally, the other woman pulled back.

“I was here first!” Thema complained while Lyna gaped at the gorgeous cock now bared before her. Fen’Harel was simply glorious, long and thick and elegant. She licked her lips.

“Sharing is caring,” she told Thema, repeating a phrase the other woman tended to use ironically. Then she sucked the tip of the dick into her mouth and swirled her tongue under his foreskin. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned at the sweet and salty flavor of the precum that had gathered there.

“Well, at least make him lie down!” Thema demanded after a moment. “You _know_ that mouth has to be able to do some really nasty deeds!” Lyna pulled back and looked up at Fen’Harel, who was watching them with wide eyes, dark with lust.

“You heard the lady,” she told him, voice gone rough with desire. Obediently, he lowered himself onto the pile of clothes on the forest floor for them. Thema immediately straddled his face.

“Don’t disappoint me,” she told him, then sat on his face. He moaned, but one hand reached up to palm her ass and Lyna heard him slurp at her lover’s sex. She smiled around the cock in her mouth before taking it as deep as it could go, opening her throat to let him in. He shouted into Thema’s core and twitched under them.

“You’re gonna ride that thing, right?” Thema asked after a moment. Lyna pulled back, leaving Fen’Harel to buck desperately at the cool breeze that chilled her spit on his cock.

“How could I not?” she asked Thema with a smile. She wiped her mouth, then straddled Fen’Harel’s hips. She leaned forward and kissed Thema deeply. “How is he, ma lath?” she whispered against Thema’s mouth, loud enough for Fen’Harel to hear. “Are his lips as sinful as they look?”

In response, Fen’Harel lifted his face to do something new with his mouth and Thema could only moan helplessly in pleasure for a moment. Then she grinned. “Oh, yeah,” she said, though whether it was simply another sound of pleasure or an answer to Lyna’s question was unclear.

Fen’Harel groped blindly for Lyna, tugging on her thighs, begging without words for her to fuck him. She chuckled and smacked his hands away. He returned them to Thema’s ass. Lyna gripped his cock in her hand and pressed it against her aching cunt, then slowly slid him inside. She moaned at the burn, the stretch, and Thema leaned forward to swallow the sounds. It took a few shallow thrusts and a few plucks at her nipples to give her a rush of wetness before she was able to take him all the way in. Once he was seated fully within her, she gave herself a moment to stretch and grow accustomed to his bulk filling her. She breathed deeply and allowed her head to fall back in pleasure.

“Sweet stars and whatever gods might exist, I could get addicted to this,” she moaned, eyes open and staring at the full moons far above them. Thema and Fen’Harel both moaned and Fen’Harel bucked his hips under her to make her moan join theirs. Then she began to fuck him in earnest, hips rotating sinuously as she thrust. Thema screamed a moment later, falling forward into Lyna’s arms and trembling as she came on Fen’Harel’s face. It went on for a while as he found new ways to torment her mid-orgasm and renew her writhing, but finally she was spent. She moved off Fen’Harel’s face and collapsed onto her side, then flicked his ear.

“Watch her,” Thema commanded. “Watch her dance on her cock.” Fen’Harel moaned, his hands coming to rest on Lyna’s thighs as he raised his head to follow the instruction. His breath hitched in his chest when he saw her.

This was the only part of Lyna’s training as a courtesan that she still employed as it was. It was too good not to. She whipped her hips, stirring him within her to stimulate every part of her core, while she allowed the rest of her body to lazily follow the movements in a smooth undulation. Truly, she was dancing as she ran her hands across her own skin, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples before twining her fingers through her hair. Her shoulders waved and twisted, drawing attention to the strength of her belly and the way her waist curved in before flaring out into her hips.

Fen’Harel loosed a string of curses as he watched her dance on him, hips bucking hard to bounce her, but she never lost her rhythm. She rode him harder, faster, noticing that Thema had started to masturbate as she laid above Fen’Harel’s head and watched. She sent a burst of magic to stimulate Thema’s clit and the woman cried out and arched up and came on her own fingers in that instant. Lyna lost herself in the feeling of being stretched and filled, the heady relief of knowing that she had chosen this and pleasure was its own reward for this act. Fen’Harel’s fingers dug into her thighs as he lost himself, too, and when he came, muscles contracting with a cry and hot semen pumping into her, she followed him down. He kept bouncing his hips as much as he could, she twisted her hips as her sex clenched tight and pleasure flashed through her like fire. She fell forward and braced herself on his chest, hands splayed over his pecs as the tremors continued. But finally she was spent, as well. She lifted herself away with a groan and collapsed onto the ground beside them.

They were quiet except for the sound of their heavy breathing for long minutes. Then, “We should do this again sometime,” Thema said into the quiet of the night. Lyna chuckled.

“I agree,” she said, and lifted a hand to trail a light touch up Fen’Harel’s side. She watched him shiver.

“How about right now?” he asked. He sat up and tugged them both closer by the ankle. They squealed playfully while he grinned.


	10. Adagio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adagio (u da zhe-o) - is a succession of slow, soft, lyrical and continuous movements. Adagio creates the illusion that the positions flow from one into another.  
> Written by Katalyna Rose
> 
> Set shortly after To Hunt the Wolf

It was Thema who opened the door after Solas knocked on it. She looked at him in surprised for a moment before grinning and cocking a hip against the doorframe. “Back again, Solas?” she asked him teasingly. He grinned at her.

“I find myself somewhat addicted to the surprises the two of you never seem to run out of,” he replied. He’d told the two women weeks before to call him by name, and they’d returned the favor. “So, Thema, if you would be so kind as to let me in? I’m certain I can find some way to repay you.”

Thema’s grin widened, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She leaned forward as though imparting a secret to whisper, “You’re in luck! She’s _dancing!”_ Then she giggled as she skipped back into the room, leaving the door open for Solas to follow.

He did so slowly, closing the door behind him. He followed the soft patter of Thema’s feet and the sweet sound of a flute to a room that was _not_ the bedroom he’d been to before. When he crossed the threshold, he was awestruck at what he saw.

The room was large, easily twice the size of the enormous bedroom down the hall, and very bright. The floor was pale wood, perfectly smooth and flat, and every wall was mirrored. The ceiling seemed to be made of light, too bright for Solas to figure out exactly what it was except that it perfectly illuminated the entire area. In the corner nearest the door sat a short couch with two chairs on either side, and it was there that he found Thema. She was seated on the couch, her legs pulled up beneath her as she leaned forward, enraptured. He sat beside her in a chair before allowing himself to be pulled into the magic that was Lyna in motion.

The tune that floated through the air was made of magic, no instruments and no musicians around to create it. It was a simple tune, slow and steady, only there to help Lyna keep time as she danced. She wore only a simple breast band and panties, her feet wrapped to leave her heels and toes bare to the floor and cover the rest. As Solas watched, Lyna arched up, legs spread, balanced on her toes, one arm slowly reaching for the ceiling, her eyes fixed on her reaching hand. Her body arched to the side to allow her to reach just a couple inches higher, her movement slow and fluid as though she was underwater. Then she retracted her hand, one leg stretching up behind her, straight at the knee, toes pointed. She leaned forward, torso and raised leg parallel to the floor, her other foot flat on the floor. Slowly, she brought her leg around, keeping it level with the floor, until she was kissing her knee. It was a remarkable feat of strength and flexibility. Beside him, Thema squirmed in her seat and muffled a squeak with her hand. Solas was completely in awe.

Lyna let her leg drop, then worked her way through a series of increasingly difficult spins, twisting her body this way and that, spinning faster and faster until Solas thought she would fall over. But she did not, her gaze locked on her own eyes in her reflection. She watched herself in the mirrors, keeping her form perfect. And it was intoxicating to see Lyna dancing in the middle of the room and a thousand reflections of her watching herself dance. A man could lose himself in fantasies of such a thing…

After the spins came leaps. She bounded across the room, toes always pointed in the air, hands and arms flowing gracefully to keep her balanced. Her creamy white hair was pinned up tightly though all her braids except her vhenan’nahr had been taken out, and strands began to work themselves free only to end up stuck to her sweaty skin as she moved. She looked so at peace, so free as she leapt and twirled and tested the limits of what her body could do. Her face was serene, eyes relaxed, a slight smile pulling at her bow-shaped lips whenever she did something exceptionally well. But she never tripped, never stumbled, never lost her balance. He couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been practicing to be able to move with such strength and flexibility and confidence. Centuries, perhaps? Longer?

She did a cartwheel with her legs spread wide and did not wobble in the slightest. She began to perform incredible feats of acrobatics, bending back until her pinned hair touched the backs of her knees, twisting herself into increasingly impossible shapes. It was magical to see, her body obeying her every wish with ease. She did a summersault in the air, no part of her touching the ground as she curled up and spun. She landed perfectly without a sound.

By the time she was finished with the acrobatics, she was red-faced and dripping sweat, breathing heavily. But she continued, cooling down with what looked like a very slow fighting form. She controlled her breathing and the incredible power of her tiny body and moved steadily through slow-motion punches and kicks, testing her balance and control as she allowed her heart to slow. She moved through the forms, striking at air, performing blocks and joint locks, grappling with the air.

Finally, she stopped, closed her eyes, and took a few long, deep breaths. Then she grinned and opened her eyes, finally looking at Thema, who was applauding. Solas was in awe, staring at her with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open as he finally summoned the thought to clap for her. Thema whooped and jumped to her feet, racing from the room as Lyna began her cool down stretches. She planted her hands on the floor beside her feet and doubled over with knees straight to stretch her hamstrings.

“Enjoy the show?” she asked him. He realized only as she spoke that the fluting music had stopped.

“You are a marvel,” he whispered reverently, his voice hoarse. She chuckled, moving into another stretch. Thema returned after a few minutes with a pitcher of ice water and a cup, towels thrown over her arm. When Lyna finished her stretches, Thema skipped over to her.

“It was amazing!” she cried. She poured a cup of water and handed it and the pitcher to Lyna. She took one of the towels and gently wiped sweat off Lyna’s shoulders while she chugged the water. Two glasses were drained before Thema had even moved down her back. Then she slowed, sipping the water delicately while Thema tenderly toweled off her sweat. “You’re so beautiful, Lyna! I love it when you dance for me!” Lyna smiled at Thema as she wiped down her legs.

“Just staying in practice, ma lath,” she said, though glee sparkled in her eyes.

“Whatever, you know I love it!” Thema replied. She was still grinning as she finished toweling off her lover. Solas shifted in his seat, crossing his legs to hide his now-aching erection. To see such a display of strength and beauty… He would dream of it for centuries, even if he never saw it again. Though the dance itself was entirely nonsexual, just seeing her body moving with such grace and strength and _stamina_ was enough to have him aching for her.

“You are beautiful enough to make the stars weep with envy,” Solas told Lyna, still trying to process what he had witnessed. Lyna blushed and shrugged as though it were nothing, finishing off the jug of water as Thema tossed away the towels.

“It’s really not that big a deal,” she demurred, but Thema snorted and smacked her shoulder as she took away the cup and pitcher.

“Yes, it is! You’re so amazing!” Thema insisted.

“I have to agree,” Solas told them, smiling. Lyna made a noise in her throat, clearly uncomfortable with the praise, and directed their attention away from herself.

“So you’re back again,” she observed. “That’s what? Three times this week?” She smirked. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were growing fond of us.” Solas chuckled and shook his head, though she was more correct than she knew. The two of them were entirely unique, completely gorgeous and wonderful people. Their humor was enough to make his sides hurt from laughing and their compassion far exceeded any he’d seen before. They often moved as one, so perfectly in tune with each other that they didn’t even seem to realize it when they acted as one being. If nothing else, he wanted to remain close simply to watch them.

But if they allowed it, he would rather be part of their unique dynamic, right in the thick of it. They flirted as one, moved as one, fucked as one… It was the most arousing thing he’d ever experienced in his life and he was addicted to it. Though Lyna was the dancer, practically a goddess when she moved, Thema had her strengths as well. Those plush, full lips could do incredible things to his cock and she seemed to enjoy penetrating him, as well, which was something Lyna flatly refused to do. The two of them together could almost cause spontaneous orgasm…

“Hey, don’t complain!” Thema cried, breaking through Solas’s heated thoughts. “I like his dick.” Lyna laughed and kissed Thema lightly.

“It _is_ a delightful dick,” she agreed. Then she slanted a look at Solas. “What shall we do with the Dread Wolf’s dick today, vhenan?” Solas straightened in his chair, uncrossing his legs to reveal his rampant erection. Both women gasped in delight. “Naughty,” Lyna teased lightly. “To have that there and hide it from us? Oh, no. I believe he must be punished.” Thema nodded, grinning with evil intent.

“I’m gonna tie him to the chair,” she declared. Solas raised his brows but offered no objection. “Strip,” she commanded. He obeyed without delay, then sat on the chair once more, his clothes in a neat pile on the floor. Thema retrieved the sweaty towels she’d used on Lyna and tied his wrists and ankles to the chair on which he sat. He tugged at the makeshift bindings once she was done, but she knew what she was doing and he was well and truly trapped. Thema grinned at him. “And now you watch,” she told him. She returned to Lyna and kissed her fiercely, stripping herself around heated kisses. Once Thema was bare, Lyna’s small garments were removed from her, though Thema left the foot wraps in place.

“How do you want me, ma lath?” Lyna asked breathlessly as Thema tongued her breasts.

“The back bend,” Thema said with a wicked grin. Lyna looked at her with wide eyes, seeming surprised, then smiled and nodded assent. Thema stepped back, glancing at Solas to make sure he was watching. Lyna took a moment to shake out her limbs and roll her head on her shoulders. She took a deep breath, positioned herself at an angle to Solas, conscious of her reflection in the mirrors, making sure he could easily see her from every angle. Then she dropped gracefully to her knees, toes together and thighs spread wide. Thema wiggled with anticipation as Lyna bent her back, arching further and further, hands splayed on the floor to keep herself balanced. Finally, the top of her head met the floor, her weight supported only by her head and the tops of her feet. Her hands she spread out at her sides in the air for balance. Her knees were in the air, thighs up high, back arched gracefully. Her neck was bent so the top of her head was flat on the floor, holding her up. The pose was incredible, requiring immense strength and balance, and Solas felt his cock twitch in the cool air.

Thema knelt between Lyna’s legs, casting a hot look at Solas before she bent her head licked a long, hot trail up Lyna’s thigh to her glistening sex. Lyna’s eyes were closed as she focused on the strength of her body, keeping herself steady, but her mouth opened on a lustful sigh. Thema set in eagerly, licking at Lyna’s entrance, sucking on her clit, her hands gently roaming all of Lyna’s body that she could reach to feel the strength in her muscles. Lyna cried out softly when one finger penetrated her deep.

“Dance for me,” Thema growled into her pussy before pumping her finger slowly. Solas had no idea how Lyna would be able to dance while maintaining such a pose, but she did. It was an undulation more than a dance, arms rippling fluidly and hips moving in slow circles. It was sensual, sinuous, and sinful, her mouth opened around breathy moans as she writhed slowly for Thema’s touch. Thema rewarded her by adding a second finger inside and Solas could feel precum beading on the head of his cock as he watched, bound and helpless. Thema’s free hand roamed Lyna’s body, gently touching and squeezing the muscles that worked to hold her up. Sweat began to sheen on Lyna’s skin, but Solas couldn’t say if it was from pleasure or the strain of maintaining balance. She glistened in the bright light of her dance studio, everything about her erotic and impossible. Her moans gained frequency and volume, her brow tightening over closed eyes, her undulations less smooth. She was nearing orgasm, still writhing, still suspending herself off the floor, and Solas’s mouth dropped open around his harsh breaths.

Watching others have sex had never been enough for him before, but watching this feat of strength and flexibility and sheer determination that was before him threatened to tear him apart. Thema grew bolder, thrusting her fingers harder within Lyna, sucking on her sex. Lyna was so wet that Solas spied drops of her juices falling onto the pale wood floor beneath her and he moaned loudly. He was utterly ignored, both women far too focused on each other to remember that he was present, tied to a chair, their literal captive audience. And that was almost as arousing as what he was witnessing.

“Thema!” Lyna cried desperately, gasping for breath. Thema surged to her feet, still thrusting her fingers inside Lyna, and wrapped her arm around Lyna’s back. Lyna’s eyes shot open wide and she met Solas’s gaze in the mirrors as she screamed, her back arching further up as her muscles seized with her orgasm. Her eyes remained open, locked on his, though he didn’t know if she saw him at all. Thema kept her arm behind Lyna’s back, supporting her and keeping her from harm as she came. Lyna’s scream increased in pitch and volume and sheer desperation and Thema gasped in surprised pleasure when Lyna’s juices suddenly sprayed. Thema’s legs were drenched by the torrent and Lyna seemed in agony, but Thema kept thrusting, kept teasing her clit, and Lyna just kept going. The orgasm seemed like it might never end, a puddle growing swiftly on the floor.

Then Lyna surprised him. Her eyes still locked on his, she cried his name. “Solas!” she screamed, his name followed by Thema’s over and over. But it was enough. With a brutal yell, Solas came. His seed lashed his belly and thighs, squirting wildly as he writhed and pulled on his bonds. None of them had so much as touched his cock and he came hard for them anyway.

Lyna finally finished as he did, her screaming orgasm settling in sobbing breaths. Thema lowered her gently to the floor, unmindful of the large puddle. She straightened Lyna’s knees, allowing her to lay flat. Lyna seemed mindless in the wake of pleasure, gasping like a fish out of water, her eyes unable to focus on anything. Thema kissed her belly.

“I’m going to untie him and be right back, okay?” she whispered. Lyna nodded. Or maybe her head just lolled, it was hard to tell. Thema strutted over to where Solas was tied, observing the mess he’d made of himself with a smile. She untied the towels from around his wrists and ankles, then tossed one in his lap.

“Clean up, then help me take care of her,” she said. “We have to give her a good rub down, massage her whole body after an orgasm like that. Then we have to get her to stretch after she bathes or she’ll be really fucking sore later. But she’ll just want to sleep so it’s gonna be a bit of a struggle to get her to stretch.”

“Whatever is needed,” Solas vowed, wiping himself quickly and joining Thema at Lyna’s side. For a sight like that, he’d do almost anything.


	11. Painted Ropes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "3some AU: It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Casual sex, a fling of no importance, changed in the touch of skin and kisses. They try to hide from it, but when another touches their new love it can no longer be denied. Bound by rope and emotion new claims are made and the vhenan'nahr are woven for all time." Prompted by lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

_Those two will be the death of me,_ Solas thought to himself as the woman pressed against him in his rooms clumsily sucked on his neck. She was lovely, really. Tall and beautiful, long dark hair with a moderate number of braids and green eyes for a lover to drown in, curvy where it counted. But she lacked a certain finesse, and she certainly lacked brashness, her court upbringing keeping her somewhat rigid and overly polite, even in this. She pulled eagerly at his clothing as he untied the laces on her dress, but her hands didn’t shake with adrenaline and anticipation. And she only had two. He had grown far too accustomed to having two pairs of hands, two pairs of lips, two impossibly beautiful women working him into a lather.

He pushed the woman’s dress down her shoulders, revealing pert and perky breasts. _Too large_ , he found himself thinking as he bent his head to them, but that was not a thought he’d ever had before. Yet the breasts he palmed overflowed his hands, larger by quite a bit than the four perfect handfuls he seemed to prefer. Before those two, he wouldn’t have cared, would have loved her plush, soft breasts. He sucked a pert nipple into his mouth and she sighed but she did not tremble. She rested a hand on the back of his head but she did not twine her fingers in his braids and tug him closer.

The woman, whose name he’d already forgotten, managed to remove enough of his clothing to bare his chest, but eager fingers did not trace the planes of muscles and threaten to tickle his ribs as they explored the shape of him. Instead she briefly fluttered her hands over his shoulders before moving on to his trousers, eager to bare him. And before, that would have been just perfect, but now he missed the way his body was marveled at. That thought angered him enough to accidentally tear her panties as he struggled to remove them. She didn’t mind, only giggled, but it was a high-pitched, whining sound that grated on his nerves. Even a giggle should be full-bodied and sensual, but no, that was only with them.

She pushed him back against the wall when he would have taken her to bed and fell to her knees. She smirked up at him, confident in her abilities, and it was similar enough to make his cock twitch for her thin lips. She closed her mouth around him and he groaned, but she didn’t pull hard enough on his foreskin. She didn’t run her tongue under it and moan at what she found. And she didn’t allow his length to breach her throat. He leaned his head back against the wall and tried to pull her closer, get her to take him deeper, but she did not obey. Her hands remained on his hips, nails digging into his flesh sweetly, but she didn’t touch the heavy weight of his sack as she bobbed her head enthusiastically.

Still, it was enough to have him ready. She guided him back onto the bed, smirking, and shoved him down onto his back. He smiled as she climbed on top, momentarily forgetting that he would not be treated to the sight of a beautiful dancer above him or taste the sweet sex of another at the same time.

“Oh, you like it this way?” the woman purred as she maneuvered her hips into position.

 _Only with them,_ he thought, then wanted to bash his head in. _No! Don’t think like that! They are no more important than any other._ But he knew it was a lie, so instead of speaking he only smirked at the woman.

She slid onto him, taking him to the hilt in a single quick stroke. He groaned as she gloved him, but she took him with ease, hips wider and more accommodating than those he wanted. He missed the struggle on a beautiful face, hair like cream or starlight tickling his belly as a head rolled on stiffened shoulders and dark moans chronicled the stretch to make him fit. He looked up into deep green eyes as she bounced without finesse and found them glazed and faraway. He wanted crystalline eyes of lyrium blue or Fade purple that speared into him even while pleasure wracked her every nerve, so he closed his eyes against the wrong woman as she bounced without rhythm.

He held her hips tightly and bucked beneath her, making her cry out and giving her a rhythm to follow. How did this woman have as much experience as she did and not even be able to keep a beat? He kept it for her, surging up beneath her as she moaned eagerly, but there was no whisper of _watch her, watch her dance for you, she is so fucking beautiful._ There were no nails trailing up his chest with a slight burn as a different voice told him _see how eager she is, how she writhes on your cock, how much she wants you._

And he gave up. He’d never find release if he didn’t, so he threw caution to the wind and imagined that his open mouth was filled with sweet flesh, a writhing woman of honey and spice to ride his face. He imagined the bite of nails on his pecs, imagined that he was already painted with the marks of teeth and lips and fingers. He thrust harder as the woman above him keened in a strange squeak that didn’t used to bother him, but it wasn’t the right tone now, didn’t come from the right throat. This woman had no rhythm and managed to be off kilter even as he guided her, so he began to pull her hips down as he thrust up, forcing her to the rhythm of his thrusts. And he wanted the dancer in her place, sweet juices filling his mouth as thighs trembled on either side of his head and the perfect rhythm on his cock, the two of them keeping time with each other as he was left helpless not to follow. He wanted the pussy in his face to clench around his fingers and tongue, a moaning cry and a breathless laugh as she came in his mouth. He wanted her to fall back off his face and then prop up his head and shoulders with her body. Command him to watch the dance as she recovered and then played with herself, enjoying the show exactly as much as he did. He wanted to watch the dancer perform, his fingers digging into her thighs as she undulated so sensually, almost letting his cock fall out of her as she took him in long, hard thrusts. Her hands playing with her body, teasing her clit, stroking her belly, squeezing her breasts and torturing her nipples, all of it done to the rhythm of her body over his.

He was close, this image of a dancer on his cock and a dirty-voiced demon at his back far better than the clumsy efforts of whatever nameless woman who was writhing through her orgasm. She clenched and squeezed and he pictured his dancer beginning to lose her rhythm as she cried out, face a mask of exquisite agony as she gazed down at him and her other lover with narrowed eyes gleaming. And as she finally finished after making sure he had as well, his dancer would curl into herself for a moment, breathing heavily, before kissing him, kissing her, and they would lie in a tangle of limbs and pleasure before bothering to move or clean up, warmth suffusing his chest that he would not name.

“Lyna!” he shouted, thrusting up hard and emptying his load into his little dancer as his demon cried out behind his head and came upon her own fingers.

But no, that wasn’t what happened. He shouted and heard a sharp gasp above him. And as he blinked open his eyes he saw deep green swimming with tears and dark hair a mess around wide shoulders and thin lips trembling.

“Who is Lyna?” she asked. He blinked and had no words for her. He should probably apologize; it was very rude to call the wrong name during sex. But he didn’t even _know_ her name and she had been nothing but a distraction. There had been countless others, before the demon and the dancer and since them, all used for a few hours of pleasure or distraction and then sent on their way. This was not unusual for him; it was only strange that he’d had a name to call at all when he came. So he shrugged. He owed her nothing, had given her the orgasm she sought. They no longer needed to deal with each other. She blinked back tears.

“I am,” said a sweet voice from the door to his bedroom. The woman above him gasped and actually fell off the bed as she scrambled to turn around. Solas sat up, shocked to see the two women he’d just been fantasizing about while he tried to put them from his mind standing in his doorway.

 _“Doesn’t anyone knock?”_ the woman on the floor shrieked. Then she looked up at the intruders and froze, her dress partway turned right-side out. Lyna and Thema stood in the doorway, Lyna propped against the door frame with an arm around Thema’s waist and her head on the woman’s shoulder. Thema had her arms crossed and her cheek resting on the top of Lyna’s head as she leaned against her lover.

“We’ve got an open door policy going,” Thema told the woman, glaring. “We’re regulars in this bedroom. You’re not.”

“I suggest you leave,” Lyna added, violet eyes cold as she looked at the woman. “Andruil isn’t known for her patience or forgiveness.”

“Yes, your Majesties,” the woman mumbled, words tumbling over each other. She scrambled for her clothes, but when Thema cleared her throat she abandoned the notion of dressing and simply gathered everything into her arms. She was forced to squeeze past the two in the doorway, and she did so with her eyes downcast and she was very careful not to touch them at all. Once she was past, she backed away while bowing low. Lyna and Thema watched her go until she disappeared, then turned to regard Solas. He remained where he was, sitting up in his bed with his crotch a sticky mess.

Thema stalked over to the discreet door that led to his private bath and yanked it open. “Wash yourself,” she barked. “I refuse to smell some skank all over you.”

“I’ll call someone to change the sheets,” Lyna commented as she moved toward the servant’s door, her voice mild but her manner dangerous. Solas decided on the better part of valor and retreated into his bath.

They left him to it and he scrubbed himself fiercely, as repulsed by the scent of the other woman on his skin as they had been by the idea of it. Of all the times for them to exercise the open door police they’d established, he figured it would be just his luck that they would witness what might have been his greatest shame in bed. He couldn’t believe that they’d actually been there to hear him cry out Lyna’s name with some other woman riding him. If he didn’t truly care for them, it might have been amusing. Instead, he was mortified and terrified that they would call the whole thing off now that it was clear that they were more to him than a casual fling.

“It was not supposed to be like this,” he groaned, scrubbing himself mercilessly until his skin turned pink. He soaped up his braided hair four times before he decided it was clean enough. He wanted to take it down, but he knew Thema and Lyna were waiting for him and to have his hair down before them would be presuming far too much. They would likely only stay long enough to let loose some truly creative and unique insults and tell him that they wouldn’t be back. Loose hair was not an appropriate way to receive such words and he could not release his duties for them, especially since they would most certainly be leaving him.

Finally, he climbed out of the bath and dried off. He hadn’t had the presence of mind to grab any clothes before bathing, so he wrapped his robe around himself and tied it tightly. Then he took a deep, steadying breath and went back to the bedroom.

There were, indeed, clean sheets on his bed when he emerged, but he’d expected that; they’d said it would be done and so it was. What surprised him was that both of them were naked when he returned. He frowned at them in confusion. Lyna was seated on a couch in front of the window, one arm extended over the back of it and her legs crossed at the knee. Thema was lying beside her, head on her lap and knees drawn up. She had her vhenan’nahr in her hand and was toying with it, scowling. Lyna’s other hand was running lightly up and down Thema’s side as though soothing her. Lyna was the only one to meet his gaze, her expression cool and steady. Then Solas noticed that beside her hip was a coiled pile of braided silk rope. He recognized it, had been confined by it and confined them with it plenty of times before, but its presence now both confused and aroused him. He had been certain that they would be leaving, but now he wondered if perhaps they intended to punish him for losing perspective regarding their relationship to him first.

“Lose the robe and lie down on the bed,” Lyna commanded coolly, inflectionless. “On your back, in the middle, arms above your head with your palms together and legs spread.” He hesitated, and her eyes flashed with her displeasure. “Now,” she growled, and he obeyed. Once he was in position, they left him there for a few minutes. Thema sat up and they whispered to each other for a while, tossing glances his way as they planned. Finally they nodded and distributed the rope between them as they stood. Thema moved to his ankles and began the process of tying them down securely. Lyna went to his arms. She wrapped the rope around his wrists until she had a cuff on each wrist that she then tied together. The knot that kept his wrists together was an easy release, a single pull on the rope releasing it, but Lyna carefully tied it so that he could not reach it himself. Once she had his hands bound together, she secured them to the headboard. By the time they were done, he was securely strapped down, the restraints so tight that he could barely even wiggle.

They knelt beside him, one on either side of his hips, and stroked his belly gently, nails teasing his skin. Thema had lost the glower and now her expression was as opaque as Lyna’s. It was unusual and he didn’t like it; he could always rely on Thema to show what she felt and say what she thought. Yet apparently this time she was endeavoring not to reveal anything to him until it was time.

“Who was she?” Lyna asked him.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, then winced as nails bit into his skin and lightning crackled sharply on his skin. Despite the fact that the pain was not as gentle as he usually liked and they were clearly punishing him, his cock stirred to life for it. He tried again, “She was no one important, just a fling. I forgot her name as soon as she told me.” They resumed slowly stroking his torso.

“Whose name did you call as you came?” Lyna asked next. He sucked in a breath, reluctant to answer. He hesitated too long and ice formed over his skin only to be broken by the sharp press of Thema’s nails. He arched as much as he could from the pain.

“Yours,” he gasped at last, his arousal still growing traitorously. The cold continued, nails scraping with painful heat. “Lyna!” he cried, and it sounded remarkably at it had when he came. “I called for Lyna!” The ice was melted away by gentle warmth and calloused fingers smoothed over the scrapes and he took a few ragged breaths.

“Who were you thinking about while you fucked that skank?” Thema asked, and she could not quite disguise the anger in her tone. Solas swallowed hard and looked at them, lyrium blue eyes sparking with fury and Fade purple flashing dangerously. He tugged a bit at his bindings, but they were so tight, holding him fast. All three of them were naked, perfect breasts bared to him. Pale and clear skin on the smaller of them gleamed just a bit in the low light of evening, tanned skin flashed with freckles on his other side. Beautiful women with beautiful minds, as different as they were alike, starlight braids pushed back out of the way and creamy locks interspersed with braids falling around strong shoulders. Damn him, but he couldn’t lie, and not only because they would punish him for it. He didn’t _want_ to lie, didn’t want to deny it any longer. Tied at their mercy, punished when he didn’t give full answers, his cock already hard for them both, it was so obvious what he felt, what he wanted. In this, he submitted to them gratefully, the burden of the lie and the responsibility lifted from his shoulders.

“You,” he told them, then hurried to clarify when a pale brow quirked and hands tensed on his skin. “I was thinking about the both of you. Imagining my dancer riding my cock and my demon riding my face. That skank couldn’t find a rhythm to save her life, so instead I was thinking about how the two of you are always so perfectly in time with each other, even during sex. I was thinking about how much I prefer the two of you to any others. I was thinking about how much I want you. And as I came and called for Lyna I was thinking about how much I care for you both.”

They were still, silent, just looking at him for long moments. Two pairs of crystalline eyes speared through him and he reveled in the sensation of all his layers being stripped away by those sharp gazes until only his core self remained for them. If they were disgusted, he would remember this fondly, this final time with them. But he was relieved, felt lighter than he had in years, since their affair began. He hadn’t realized how much his hidden affections had been weighing on him until he admitted them, released the lie.

As one, they turned wide eyes from him and looked at each other. Words were said in the batting of lashes and the flicking of gazes and the twisting of lips until they came to a silent agreement and both of them smiled. They looked at him, the cold masks they’d worn abandoned in favor of heat and desire, and he gaped at them. Thema prowled between his legs and rubbed her cheek against his rock hard cock and he gasped.

“This cock is ours now,” Thema declared easily, confidently, before closing plush lips around the head of him. He released a choked cry as she sucked his foreskin and _yes_ it was so good, so right, just what he needed. He almost sobbed in relief as those lips that were made for his cock sucked him deeper. Lyna caught his jaw and he struggled to focus for a moment until he met her eyes.

“ _You_ are ours now,” she told him, tenderness in her gaze and a slight smile upon her lips. He could only nod gratefully.

“Yours,” he vowed. “I am yours.” His dancer and his demon claimed him easily and he felt his chest expand with emotion.

“But the best part about being ours,” Lyna continued, her face almost close enough to kiss and her eyes sparkling with mirth and something deeper, unnamed, “is that we are also yours.”

Thema sucked hard on his cock, making him moan, letting him pop out of her mouth. “Yours,” she agreed breathlessly, then returned to her task. Lyna kissed him deeply and painted his body with her affection, the marks of her nails and teeth in his skin becoming little treasures, gifts that he would cherish as long as they remained in his skin.

 

* * *

 

Solas remained tied down at their mercy except for brief breaks to answer nature’s call and occasionally bathe for a year and a day. They fed him, wiped him down when they were finished for the time being, and used his body in the most delectable ways. He was painted with bruises from fingers and nails and teeth. They painted each other, as well, and allowed him to paint them from time to time as well. Sometimes they changed his position on the bed, but always he remained securely tied down. When sleep was needed, he stayed tied but they curled up against his sides and dragged a covering of furs and blankets over the three of them.

Not one of them left his rooms for this entire time. After three months, braids were unraveled and taken down. Thema and Lyna left only their vhenan’nahr in their hair and removed all else. They gently took down his as well and the relief he felt to have his hair freed, responsibilities temporarily forgotten, was heady enough to make him desperate to taste them again.

In his room, with Solas still tied down, his demon and his dancer continued with their lives. They read books aloud while curled against him, Thema practiced her kick boxing, Lyna practiced her dancing. Both of those events always ended with Solas spontaneously orgasming all over himself from the power of their beautiful bodies. But they did not untie him.

None of them wore any clothing for this time. There was no need since none of them left. Food was brought to them regularly, sheets changed by slaves while Solas was briefly released to bathe with them, and there was no need for barriers of any kind.

On the anniversary of the day they tied him down, he finally confessed all. They’d broken him down and built him back up slowly over time, their presence enough to enrich his soul but their deeds proved his undoing.

Afternoon was bleeding into evening and lazy kisses were pressed against his skin as his demon and his dancer talked in soft voices about how to torment him next, coming up with ideas and tweaking them until they found something they liked best. Giggles filled the air around Solas’s groans at some of their ideas, both of pleasure and frustration. And finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I love you.” It was barely more than a whisper, but they both fell silent and still. They looked up at him and he met their gazes with certainty. “I love you,” he said again, louder, and he meant it. Thema beamed while Lyna bit her lip and blinked back tears.

“It’s about damn time!” Thema cried, bouncing up to her knees. She leaned over him and kissed Lyna sweetly, which allowed her to collect herself enough to grin and laugh.

“We were starting to wonder if you’d ever admit it,” Lyna said with a wet chuckle. He smiled at them both, feeling laughter shake his chest and the true strength of his love for them burst forth.

“I love you, too.” Lyna was the first to say it, but it was echoed a moment later by Thema.

“It’s probably gonna be a little weird,” Thema said with a wry twist to her lips as she looked between her two lovers. “But we can figure it out.”

“But right now, I think I’d rather just fuck,” Lyna said with a grin.

The next day, once they were at last sated for the moment, they finally untied him and left him unbound, their goal accomplished. He loved them and they loved him and the words had finally been said, feelings admitted. But they still did not leave his rooms. Instead, they stayed together, utterly without barriers, and tried to figure out what they were, how to integrate him into the unique dynamic of the two women.

A lot of what they needed was discovered through sex. He fucked them long and hard and as often as possible. He woke Thema with his cock inside her on many occasions, but for Lyna he could not do so. Lyna’s boundaries were stricter, certain things off limits to her, certain pleasures ruined forever by the sick lusts of the nobles who’d bought her as a courtesan. These limits were laid out for him in plain terms and he respected them. They were fewer than he might have expected, but she was strong and she’d had Thema to help her heal.

He fucked them both at once or one at a time, and sometimes he merely watched them fuck each other. Lyna danced and he fucked her as she twisted her body into impossible shapes. Thema sucked his cock at every opportunity and shared with Lyna easily. Thema discovered the joy of wearing a cock strapped to her hips and fucking them both. Lyna did not share this toy with her, but she enjoyed it when Thema used it on her. A favored and selfish position became his cock in Lyna, splayed beneath him, and Thema’s cock in him as she knelt behind.

It was beautiful, a peaceful time with hair left loose and time not counted, not important. Days and nights passed them by in blissful oblivion, unimportant. Only three times was their peaceful isolation interrupted. Once, a couple years in, a problem rose on Ghilan’nain’s lands that could not be delegated to others. It was solved with much furious writing and a few meetings in other rooms in which she clad herself in only a robe. It took a mere three days to solve and she was furious to have been interrupted for it, but Solas and Thema fucked her into quiescence once more.

The second time, the problem was with one of Andruil’s nobles trying to grasp for power during her six year absence. Thema stormed out of the room stark naked and returned the next day, still naked and now covered in blood. The noble wasn’t dead, she reported, but there would be no more interruptions of that sort. The blood wasn’t washed away until the next morning, her temper soothed only by the exhaustion that followed as many orgasms as her body could possibly give them.

The third time, the interruption was a gala held by Falon’din that all Evanuris were required to attend. They could not wiggle out of that without sparking a war, which would effectively end their seclusion. So they braided their responsibilities back into their hair, put on clothing for the first time in eight years, and attended the party. They stuck together, hardly even interacting with the other guests. Falon’din caused a scene, June introduced an interesting euphemism, and Thema made a brash declaration that Lyna confirmed. They left the party victorious, having claimed each other publically, and proceeded to claim each other privately the moment they shut themselves away once more.

And then, after ten years sequestered away with only each other, they finally came to a decision.

“I’m braiding my vhenan’nahr into your hair,” Thema told Solas as she fidgeted with the one in her hair, beneath her left ear. “And then you’re going to braid one into mine and Lyna’s.” She looked at Lyna. “You’ll braid one in his hair, too.” Lyna grinned.

“Of course,” Lyna agreed.

The braiding of the vhenan’nahr was done by the light of the full moons. Lyna had to draw Thema’s love from within her and combine it with his love for Thema for her, then breathe the magic onto Thema’s fingers since she had no magic. But it was easy, perfect, love suffusing the room as three braids were woven. And they were his first vhenan’nahr, the only ones he’d ever worn. And when they were complete, he held them in his hand, magic sparking against his fingers, and he was overwhelmed with emotion. He held his women in his arms, his love in their hair and theirs in his, and they cried together. His demon and his dancer had truly been claimed, his in all respects. And those braids, he vowed, would never be removed. His love for them would never fade. They vowed the same.

And they left their isolation, braided their duty back into their hair. Solas braided his in even chunks, each braid the same width over his scalp. Thema braided hers haphazardly, each braid different in her carelessness to create the lovely chaos he adored. She was nagged by Lyna until she added decorations in, a few random beads woven through. Lyna’s braids were careful, artful, each unique and lovely. She was the only one of the three of them who did not braid all her hair, leaving a blanket of creamy waves free down her back beneath the heavy weight of her many crowning braids. Both of them looked beautiful, incredible, their vhenan’nahr displayed as proudly as his.

They went back to their lands and their responsibilities. They went back to court. But always they kept each other close, seeing each other as often as they could. They slept together when sleep was needed, always finding each other before exhaustion won out. There was much to catch up on after their long vacation, but it had been entirely worth it. And they lived and they loved and it was an easy thing to be together, three pieces of a single heart.

Solas loved them with all that he was, all that he had, and he knew that they felt the same. He had never been so happy, so fulfilled. He had love and happiness and two amazing, impossible women to return his affections. His body was always painted with their love and theirs were always painted with his, bruises left to heal naturally and cherished for what they were. It was a deep happiness that persisted even in dark times, even as tensions built between the other Evanuris. On his worst days a few words and gentle touches from his heart could soothe his every ill. He was happy.


	12. Memories Best Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thema’s arrival in Thedas/Elvhenan was not easy, no matter the Universe. It was easier in Thedas, but in Elvhenan it nearly killed her again. 
> 
> WARNING: Suicide mention

_Pain wracked her body for years, everything that was before seemed like a dream, a foggy haze. She could barely walk, let alone crawl, and the spirits that would not come near her as a ghost, clustered around her. Purpose guided her hands and feet, Faith kept her fed and Valor drove off fearsome beasts. Every day her bones cracked and broke, fusing back together as her spirit fought for a shape it was used to. The vallaslin bled from her skin, drops of blood and green ink staining the ground of wherever Purpose was taking her._

She woke with a muffled scream, body convulsing in the memory of pain. Thema fled the bed, and her sleeping lovers, only grabbing a robe and didn’t stop until her feet were in the damp soil of Andruil’s gardens. The sun was at its peak that day but the grounds were still and quiet. Ghilan’nain, Andruil and Fen’harel were not supposed to wake for another few weeks and so the servants slept as well and magic maintained the palace. 

The soft cotton warded off the chill of Fall even as she stood in the sunlight. Winter was coming soon, all the leaves on the trees in vibrant shades of red, orange and gold, and the Fall flowers were in bloom. She disliked how the Elvhen could cycle seasons away in sleep, around seasons or years awake. It drove her mad if she didn’t mark every day that passed even if it confused her mates. The habits of her home world would never be shaken, the measurement of time a foreign concept in Elvhenan.

And the dream…

No, it was no dream. It was a memory. She had died at her own hands, a bottle of opioids downed like candy, a bottle of premium whiskey chasing them. A forgotten path in the woods of British Columbia, the perfect place to end everything, to choose how she would die. She’d not waste away hours fearing the end, cradling her broken arm to her chest, weeping over cancer in her bones. Fate was just another thing to fight, just as she’d run away from her broken family, run from men and women who wished to claim her, made a stake for herself in illegal fighting rings in the northwest of the US and Canada.

Thema rubbed her arms and took a seat on a marble bench. So much had changed and yet so little at the same time. Death had left her a wandering spirit, somehow brought here to Elvhenan. Those memories were sparse as if she had slept for long periods of time. There was nothing to guide her and the bright glow of Spirits had been the only thing she remembered for a long time and their fear of her. She’d not been like them, born of a singular emotion, she was the birth of despair and rage but neither at the same time.

It was a day like this that she’d found the dying woman. Pointed ears and a soft face marked with an intricate bow, willowy in frame, there had been a moments confusion. What was this? An elf? Coming closer she felt a pull, the confines of an earthly body calling to her, and as the woman’s spirit left she was pulled into the void left behind. The dying body had seized, jerking, gasping for air as life grasped it, shook it and demanded it continue on. 

Her mind nearly shattered from the shock of death then rebirth. She had begged for a clean death all that time, dreading the return to being a ghost, but hating the pain even more.

Those years spent readjusting were hell, the body she wore changing. It grew taller as the bones of her body broke and rehealed over and over again, her face longer and angled, teeth breaking when she tried to eat. Skin paled, losing its dark color, and then tanned in the constant sunlight. Black hair fell from the scalp, growing back lighter every time until it was as white as snow. And she was blinded for months at a time until everything finally settled, this alien body now hers in a blend of elvhen and human.

During it all the Spirits guided her through forest and field, past towns and cities, fed her and protected her. Faith, Purpose, and Valor were still her friends even now as they made the Halls of Andruil their home. She owed them everything. 

They guided her, naked and scared, into the arms of a Huntress with violet eyes and violet horns on her face. The pain had faded away in her grasp, a concept so foreign after so long that she had nearly gone mad again. Because of that Huntress, she still lived today, after so many years she’d lost count, and she loved her so thoroughly for it.

Thema ran her fingers over the vhenan’nahr, a soft smile on her lips as she felt the love Lyna had for her. Every day she strived to be worthy of her and knew she fell short everytime. One day she would be worthy of the love she was given, prove herself to her mates and maybe find peace of mind. 

She left the garden to reclaim her bed, unaware of Purpose’s presence at the bench.


	13. Blood on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor is a bitch and Solas needs to fight and fuck. Fortunately, he knows just the woman to help him.
> 
> Written by lehavasadowsun

He needed to fight. 

The minute they stepped into Skyhold he grabbed his rucksack, filled it with necessities and left. His face was a mask of fury, so much so that Rutherford, Leliana, and even Madame de Fer would not come near him. They knew that the Inquisitor was making his life a living hell now that his wives were in Skyhold. How dare she say half of the things she did, ignorant, petulant child. His life was not hers to own and control, and he’d not let her dictate anything, let alone whom he would love. 

Leliana pulled her scouts away from following him as he stalked from the Hold that was once His.

As if they would be able to trace him if he didn’t want to be found.

Cole merely muttered to him as he left ‘ _blue skies like velvet, an old power in their hands, a thrill of the chase; they went hunting to calm their blood_ ’ and he knew his destination. 

He needed to fight and fuck, and he knew where he’d find it.

A quick slip into the Fade guided his steps, knowing where his lovers went. They had split up to cover ground in the foothills of the Frostbacks and the one he sought was closer by. She would fight him, help release his frustration, and he knew she would enjoy it. His demon never backed down from a rough time and wore her scrapes, bites, and bruises with pride, had designed her robes of Arlathan to show them off. The rage in his veins would be cooled when they were done, and then he would seek his dancer. 

She was found rather quickly and he shed the outer layers of his armor, his staff and rucksack, as he watched her from the hilltop. The starlight hair was visible from here, even hidden in the shadows of brush and trees, the bow-staff in hand. Beyond her were deer grazing in a small meadow, fat with the Spring that barely touched Tarasyl’an Te’las. The Keep was changing, his wives slowly plucking at his spells that slept in the stones. He could feel it in the air and soil, but not enough yet for him to reclaim, too soon to make such a move.

It took almost too long for him to finally reach her, for all her attention was focused forward she would easily hear him if he wasn’t careful. Time and trial had granted him the experience needed her and when his fingertips touched her… 

The knife strapped to her calf nearly cut an ear off, his tight grip on her wrist all that kept it in place, his other hand was sealed over her mouth. Muffled screaming scared the deer off as they struggled, the lava in his veins burning him from the inside out. Finally, the weapon was tossed away, the bow-staff out of her reach and she was pressed into the damp loam beneath them. Her ass was pressed into his groin so tightly he was sure she could feel his hard cock through the layers of cloth and she hissed and snarled threats of dismemberment and pain against his hand, fingers curled like claws where magic bound them to the earth.

“Shhh,” Solas crooned, black velvet in his voice. “My demon…”

All at one she still, crystalline eyes rolling in their sockets, trying to push back against him to see him. He only pushed her down with his chest, the two of them so tightly pressed that they could be one. “Ah ah… no moving, ma asha, you are _mine_.”

She stilled, for a few seconds trembling in his hold, before she became like a snake in his grasp. It made him laugh, low and throaty, pleased at her defiance, needing it like he needed air. His demon fought him and he did not let her go. Clothing was ripped, hers mostly, fingers digging purple patterns into her belly, her breasts, a hand mark across her throat when she started cursing him again. The bond was not there anymore but they knew each other, knew by tone what was needed, and she wanted this as much as he did.

When he drove his cock into her sweet cunt she was drenched, her muscles already rippling in the rhythm of orgasm. They had battled, she had lost and through the haze of rage, desperation and lust, the motion of a single word that would stop all this was never made. 

She pushed back against him, a hand on her hip stopping her impudence, his teeth in her shoulder as a warning. Her cunt clenched on him, a scream against his hand as she exploded on his cock, her sweet juice sluicing down his flesh, soaking his sac, muscles pulsing like a heartbeat. He pushed harder and deeper, testicles slapping into her sex, the body in his grasp shaking like a leaf.

Fingers found her clit, tugging at the slippery flesh. Fresh waves of melted honey flowed from her as her body locked up. Then she was fighting him again, her teeth in his palm, bucking and writhing. A blinding shot slammed into him and his teeth sliced into her flesh, taste, and scent of copper on his face. She nearly howled as the pain and the shots of his seed pushed her over again.

He growled at her, rapid waves of cum soaking his trews, dripping down his drenched cock, warming his balls and sliding over her shaking thighs. The juices of their sex mingled as he came again, like a river of fire from his cock, and they climbed higher and higher each time, crashing down in exquisite explosions. 

They lay tangled in the brush for hours, wringing the other dry of everything they had. When they finally fell apart they slept in each other’s arms. His lungs hurt, his throat dry, his rage run clean and painted on her skin. Lips were sore from the biting, his joints ached and his fingers tingled. 

The worst wounds were healed though she protested and he gave her new marks to make up for it. He cleaned himself of her fluids, aware of her eyes watching him move about. 

“Lyna is not far away,” Thema purred, voice hoarse and raspy from her noise. She was sprawled out in the churned soil, dirt streaked and battered, like a primal spirit of nature. “You should go see her.” 

“I plan on it.”


	14. Blood Reaffirmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Direct sequel to Blood on Fire
> 
> Rage bled from him, Solas seeks now his other wife for the devotion she offers so willingly to him, to remind him that he is what she wants and needs and loves.
> 
> Written by Katalyna Rose

The arrow flew wide and the ram bolted when arms wrapped tightly around Lyna from behind. Only the frisson of magic on her aura kept her from obliterating her assailant, the touch of power familiar.

“Solas!” Lyna cried, indignant as she struggled vainly in his grasp. “It’s hard enough to hunt with almost all the game scared off by the Breach! I had that one and you let it get away! You’re chasing down that arrow I lost, too!”

“Not today I’m not,” he growled low under her ear. She stopped struggling, body trembling as she recognized his tone, turned her head toward him and caught the distinct scent of blood and sweat and tilled soil and Thema, leather and vanilla and sweet defiance, and understood all at once what Solas needed from her. “Today, you are mine.” His voice was low and rough, dangerous, and she responded to it by instantly growing wet. He released her from his grasp, but grabbed her shoulders and shook her when she would have turned to him. “Do not move,” he commanded. She shivered and obeyed, keeping her back to him. It was easy to fall into her role, becoming what he needed and what she needed to give him. A calm settled over her as she waited, chill mountain breeze teasing the ends of her hair.

Her armor was stripped from her slowly, each clasp and tie and buckle succumbing to his demands. Pieces fell away, her limbs moving when he demanded, until she stood in the snow wearing nothing but her foot wraps, bare toes curling in the ice. She shivered in the cold wind, gooseflesh rippling across her skin, and Solas growled.

“Kneel,” he commanded, voice dark with warning. Lyna did as he said, falling instantly to her knees. Fingers combed through her hair with startling gentleness and she closed her eyes, wondering what had prompted him to seek her out. The last thing she’d heard from him, he’d been on a mission to Crestwood with the Inquisitor. Perhaps the woman was still being unpleasant to him and he needed to take back control of his love life. It would certainly explain the scent of a rough fight with with their wife that lingered in his skin, but whatever the reason she was more than willing to oblige.

The fingers in her hair suddenly tightened and yanked back. Lyna gasped at the sharp pain as her head was tilted back. She looked up at him, met his gaze evenly. His eyes were dark and wide, his chest heaving already; his need was great and she was ready to serve. On all of his exposed skin she spied purple shadows, the beginnings of bruises, and many red welts. Thema had given it her best shot and been beaten, it seemed.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked her, and she swallowed though the sharp curve of her neck made it difficult. Even without the bond, his presence in her mind, she knew what he needed.

“I belong to you, my heart,” she told him, her own voice hoarse and breathy. Solas’s other hand gently stroked her cheek and she leaned into the touch as much as she could.

“Ready so easily,” he murmured, sounding pleased. She spied dirt on his clothes, hastily brushed at, a remnant of his earlier battle.

“I am always ready to serve you,” she assured him. He groaned slightly in response, eyes growing darker. Whatever rage he’d felt Thema had bled from him and now he needed her devotion. She would give it to him in whatever way he asked, swearing herself to him with flesh and blood and service.

He moved around until he stood before her, his hand still fisted in her hair. His cock was already free, already hard, when he made her face him. “Then serve me,” he growled, then yanked her head closer by the hair. She went willingly, opening her mouth to take him in. He pulled her until she took his entire length, his tip distending her throat as she opened it to allow him inside. Then he released her and let her do as she would, trusting her to know him. She swallowed around his length in her throat, swallowed the lingering taste of her wife, and he groaned loudly, then she pulled back and sucked his foreskin. Her hand came up to cup and massage his balls as she bobbed her head. She sucked him hard, running her teeth across his skin to make him hiss his breath.

She felt his sack tighten in her hand as she brought him closer and closer, but before he could come he yanked her away. She blinked dizzily up at him, confused, but he shoved her down. He pinned her arms behind her back, under the weight of her body, then pinned her down with a hand around her neck. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t choke her or restrict her breathing; it was a warning and a means to pin her to the forest floor. She was helpless beneath him, naked and vulnerable, and she felt a thrill rush through her veins and make her shiver. She arched herself and writhed slowly, dancing for him while pinned to the forest floor.

He was fully clothed, his cock and balls pulled out of his trousers, as he mounted her. He tugged her legs up and she wrapped them around his waist, and then he thrust inside. She cried out loudly as he took her in a single powerful stroke to the hilt. Birds were scattered by the volume of her cry and her body trembled, inner muscles clenching and slowly relaxing around him. He gave her a moment, but quickly he moved again. It burned, her body still struggling to accept his, but it was good. She needed the burn and he needed to give it to her, and she moaned as her eyes rolled back in her head.

“Anything you want, ma lath,” Lyna whispered to him, and his hips stuttered, rhythm faltering before resuming even faster than before. She wrapped her legs around his and pulled him with every thrust, asking for more without words as she continued her writhing dance. He gave it to her, fucking her hard into the dirt. “Anything I can give,” she gasped, her body trembling as lightning shivered up her spine and heat pooled in her core. She was thrashing for him quickly, what rhythm she’d found completely lost.

“I want you to come,” he growled at her ear, then bit her breast hard. And she shrieked as her body obeyed, muscles clenching and back arching as she writhed on him. He groaned and she felt the liquid heat of his semen inside her as he came, too.

When it was over, he collapsed on top of her, releasing her neck. He pulled her arms until they were freed from beneath her, and then merely laid there, cradled by her body and breathing heavily.

Lyna scraped her nails gently over his scalp and massaged his shoulders as much as she could. He sighed and gathered her to his chest. He remained on top of her, soaking in her presence. He may have fallen asleep there briefly, she wasn’t sure, but eventually he stirred and his cock stiffened again and he propped himself up on his arms. He looked down at her, searching her gaze. Then he pinned her hands beside her head and fucked her all over again.


	15. The Cycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No sex this time, just fluff. Thema x Solas, Lyna gone on business. Solas being a cute nerd. Spirits being creepers.

They didn’t have sex all the time. There were times where they were apart for a cycle of seasons, if not longer; times when they never left each other’s sides for a heart beat. If their relationship was built just on fucking they would never have made it this far, but they were compatible in so many other ways.

Lyna was brilliant, he could spend cycles with her crafting magic, discussing the theoretical use, going through libraries and ancient ruins for the knowledge contained within. Their magic worked so well together, filling in gaps and cracks, supporting where they were weak, and it was stronger together than alone. With her, he felt connected to the world, enveloped in what Elvhenan is, rooted in the pride of The People.

Thema was curious, absorbing what they could teach her, learning to hunt like the Goddess she was supposed to be, teaching how to use the body as a weapon. She grew bored quickly with the language of magic, preferred the physical strain of labor, but that did not mean she was dumb. He enjoyed spending time with her in the woods, hunting the beasts that lived there, hearing the stories of Earth, of something called Science. Here with her, he learned more to use in magic, saw the endless possibilities that science could provide.

He sat in the library this cycle, poring over old and crumbling tomes found in a ruin that pre-dated Elvhenan. Magic and soft gloves minimized the damage that may be caused to the delicate pages. How they had survived for so long in chests protected by rudimentary magic he didn’t know. They seemed to chronicle the transition of the Elvhen from tribes into a permanent civilization and the Spirits that helped them.

So engrossed in the journal was he that he didn’t notice his demon until her hands slid over his shoulders. “Hey, babe,” The little pet name made him smile. “Enjoying your book?” Her lips played with the sensitive tip of his ear, little shivers running down his back, and fingers found their vhenan’nahr.

“It is incredible.” Enthusiasm made his voice shake, grinning like a child in a candy shop. If that was how one of her sayings went. “It details how Elvhenan was founded by a leader of one of the tribes.”

“Uh huh…” The plush, pink lips trailed from his ear tip to his neck, little sucking bites pressed into his tanned skin. Now her fingers played with the clasps of his robes - oak brown and gold, with a sash of scalloped waves about his waist, copper red undershirt, and trews -, flicking one open before he caught her hands.

“Not now, Thema.” While they usually had sex a few times while the sun was up, and more when the moon was in the sky, he was far more interested in this than he was in anything else. Even food sat cold and stale on the table, only the cup of mulled wine being touched. “Maybe later.”

There was a huff of displeasure but she redid the clasp and hung over his shoulder. “You said that this was a journal?”

“About the founding of Elvhenan, yes.”

“So, before the Evanuris ever existed?”

“Yes,” Solas gave her a smile and a small kiss. “The Evanuris didn’t become what they are until much later. This is mostly forgotten in our history. Whether by purpose or just lost in time. I will be taking these books to the Vir Dirthara when I am done reading them.”

Silence filled the library for a while, Solas returning to his reading as spirits of Curiosity, Wisdom, and Knowledge flitted about. Love curled up in his lap, a pulsing red and purple cat, purring their love into the air. It was pleasant, warm, a moment of peace between them, though Lyna’s absence was a cold pressure on his chest.

Thema shifted, moving his arm out of the way to sit on his lap. Love made a displeased face but claimed her lap instead. “If it’s not a problem, could you start at the beginning and read it to me?” She tucked her head under his chin, her silver and jade green robes, shorter than his, a beautiful counterpoint to his earthy tones. “I can’t read Elvhen.”

Another kiss was pressed into the white hair that tickled his nose, smiling. “Of course, ma lath.”

The pages were turned back to the beginning and he started reading out loud. Curiosity and Knowledge clustered nearby, listening as well, while Love continued to sleep on her lap.


	16. Lost in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Small small 3some AU prompt: Lyna's side of the first meeting with Thema."  
> Prompted by lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

Lyna laid in bed beside Thema, propped up on too many pillows with a book in her lap. She’s abandoned the goal of reading in favor of stroking the pale head in her lap, a gentle smile on her face. Even though their lover was so far away, a wanted traitor and a pariah whom they were forced to disavow over and over, having Thema with her was such a comfort. If she’d been forced to bear this burden alone, working for the Dread Wolf from inside their enemy’s confidence, she would have gone mad. But with Thema by her side, anything was possible. An impossible woman, everything about her strange and different, she made Lyna strive to be more than she was.

_The game trail was interrupted by a wide patch of broken brush and the stumbling, dragging steps of a wounded thing. The shape of the few full prints and the marks of toes indicated that whatever had passed this way was Elvhen and in dire straits. Lyna frowned, examining the trail. It was fresh, an hour old at most, and clearly whoever it was couldn’t move very fast. She glanced again at the game trail she’d been following but knew she’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t follow the path of this wounded person and either put them out of their misery or try to help. She abandoned the game to follow the person._

The memory suddenly assaulted Lyna, as it was wont to do on occasion. She still wondered if it had been Compassion or Fate that drove her to investigate that limping trail. She would likely never know.

_Lyna stood in the middle of a clearing, hands fisted on her hips and glared at the ground. The terrain had changed, now rocky and firm, and the limping trail had vanished without a trace. She had searched every inch of the clearing and into all the surrounding forest, but she’d been unable to pick the trail back up. The only comfort she had was that there had been no trace of blood anywhere along it. With luck, whoever it was could make it to safety. Perhaps a friendly spirit might find them._

_Forced to abandon the trail, Lyna returned to her hunt. She wandered back into the forest and scanned for tracks, but she couldn’t get that trail out of her head. She wished she could have found and helped whoever it was, but she also couldn’t hide from the fact that her Pride had been injured by being unable to pick the trail back up._

Lyna laughed to herself as she stroked Thema’s cheek and the woman stirred just a little in sleep. She’d been so sure of herself then, so certain that she could follow any trail. Thema had proven her wrong. Though the otherworldly woman had little experience in tracking when they met, she had since exceeded Lyna’s abilities and would notice things that Lyna might have missed. If it had been Thema following that trail, she wondered if she might have been able to pick it back up. The two women together were masters of the hunt, able to follow weeks old trails to their final destinations and make it look easy. Thema made her better in every way and Lyna always strived to be even better for her.

_Nearly an hour after Lyna was forced to abandon the trail and resume her hunt, she heard a crash nearby. She couldn’t believe that anything that could make such noise had gotten the jump on her, but the sight that greeted her when she looked toward the sound drove that thought from her head. It was a woman, Elvhen with hair like the stars that wheeled above them despite being dirty and matted, eyes like the blood of Titans wide and fearful, and features wider and longer than any Lyna had seen before. Her nose was spattered with freckles, her face was bare of Vallaslin, indicating nobility, but nothing else about her suggested the same. She was unarmed and unarmored, completely nude and stumbling as though she’d never walked before. She was trailed by three spirits that vanished before Lyna could identify them._

_Unthinking, Lyna rushed to her and held open her arms as the woman fell. Had she not been there, the stranger would have fallen face-first into the dirt. Instead, Lyna wrapped her up in her arms and kept her steady as she gasped for breath. She held the woman close, brushing tangled hair out of her face and whispering sweet words of comfort to calm her. The woman trembled, clutching at her desperately, like a lifeline, and Lyna held her tighter until she was able to still. Slowly, she lowered them both to the ground since the woman could not stand under her own power. Lyna looked her over for injuries but found none, her body whole and working, though something lingered in her bones. It was just a wisp of some agony, something she no longer carried but which had been painful and powerful enough to leave an imprint of memory. It vanished before she could identify it, too._

_“Can you hear me?” Lyna asked softly as she held the strange woman. The woman shifted in arms and looked up, her eyes finally focusing and meeting Lyna’s. “Who are you?” she asked. If the woman was a runaway, she would not give her real name. If she was nobility as her bare face seemed to suggest, she would give her title. A name was not the answer Lyna expected._

_Crystalline eyes slowly cleared, the woman settling. Though for a moment she seemed not to understand the words, eventually she gasped, “Thema. My name is Thema.” Lyna smiled at her._

_“I am Lyna,” she told her. This Thema managed to smile back._

Lyna leaned down and kissed Thema’s sleeping face in her lap. She was so peaceful in sleep, so unlike the strange and filthy woman she’d found all those centuries ago. And in a few hours when she would wake, she would be different again. Bright and loud and unpredictable, Lyna would be almost helpless to do anything but follow Thema’s many moods and whims. It was still strange, even after so long, that Thema would sleep for a few hours each night. It was still inconvenient at times, such as during celebrations meant to last a fortnight or longer. They would retire together during lulls in conversation or quiet moments so that Thema could sleep. When they returned, they passed it off as needing time together. The others seemed to think they were strange and very lusty. Well, at least they weren’t wrong!

Lyna could remember Andruil attempting to claim this woman with no past and almost no understanding of their language. It had taken Lyna a long time communicate successfully with her. She’d brought her home because she didn’t know what else to do, but she could not hide a person from her queens. Andruil tried over and over to mark her with Vallaslin, but each time the marks had simply slid off her skin like wax off warm glass. Frustrated, Andruil had simply declared that Thema was hers and bound magic in her hair. And then she’d promptly forgotten about the strange, unmarked slave in her household. As Thema had slowly gained Andruil’s memories, she’d realized with a grunt and a roll of her eyes that the queen had forgotten all about the incident in less than a month. It had served them well at the time, however, allowing them to become close and allowing Thema to adjust her new life. In the end, it had worked out for the best.

Lyna touched the vhenan’nahr in Thema’s hair, her love for her woman made magic and real. She was beautiful and fierce and wonderful and Lyna loved her so much. She still felt cold and alone with Solas at their side, but Thema made the separation bearable. At least she could commiserate, if nothing else. And with Thema, Lyna would always be safe and loved. That much had been true from the moment they’d met. Lyna’s life had only ever been made better by Thema, even when they fought. It was a love meant to last for eternity, Lyna was certain.


	17. Chains of Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3some AU: He always sat back, content to let them control the bedroom, always finding pleasure in serving his mates. Sometimes a dark thread crept into his eyes and the tables reversed. The hunted became the hunter, Queens bound at the Wolfs' feet, and a belly warmed by alcohol.  
> prompt from lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

Solas sighed heavily as he poured dark liquid from a glorious crystal decanter into a cut crystal glass. He considered the alcohol for a moment, swirling it in the stout glass slowly. Then he turned and sat heavily on his throne of golden stone, letting the pelt across his bare shoulders slide off and slouching carelessly.

“What am I to do with you?” he murmured to himself, eyeing the two women who knelt a few feet in front of him. Both twitched under the cold consideration of his gaze, tugging at their restraints. “Two spies amidst my loyal subjects, putting at risk all that I hold most dear.” He shook his head slowly, wickedness gleaming in his storm blue eyes. “This cannot stand.”

Lyna shivered, instinctively pulling at her arms, but her wrists were cuffed together securely. Beside her, Thema struggled more valiantly but to no avail.  Lyna wished she could tug on the leather collar wrapped around her neck, settle it more comfortably if not rip the thing off. A metal loop in the front attached a chain between her collar and Thema’s, a couple of feet of length all that they were allowed. It was degrading to be so helpless, bound and collared at the Dread Wolf’s feet, but Lyna felt a thrill run through her.

Solas took a slow, long sip from his glass as he watched them tremble and pull at their bonds. Then he sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. From this new position he observed them, eyes narrowed maliciously. He rubbed the palm of one hand against the fabric of his loose trousers, then reached forward and snagged the chain that bound the women together. Thema grunted and Lyna coughed when he tugged hard to make them lean toward him. He sighed again as he slowly observed them, eyes perusing their forms as though admiring a pretty painting. Lyna felt her nipples harden as he gazed long at her bared breasts, her nudity suddenly much more apparent to her than it had been. Beside her, Thema jutted her chin proudly and did not shrink from his gaze as it turned to her. A smirk tugged Solas’s full lips as he released the chain and leaned back once more to take another slow sip.

“Such pretty little spies you are,” he told them, voice like the sweetest poison. “It would be a shame to destroy such beauty, yet I cannot let your crimes go unpunished. Oh, what to do…”

“Let us serve you,” Lyna suggested, voice soft. “Our allegiance is for sale, after all. Make an offer.”

Solas’s eyes widened in surprise and he leaned forward. With a deceptively gentle finger, he traced the line of Lyna’s jaw before tilting her chin up. She flinched from his touch, looking away, but he grabbed her chin in his hand and made her look at him.

“And what would possibly guarantee that your allegiance would remain with me?” he asked, voice deadly and dark. “It is for sale, as you said. You work for my enemies and offer yourselves up in exchange for your lives. What is to prevent you from doing so the next time you are captured?”

“There won’t be a next time,” Thema spat. “We are the best at what we do and we don’t get _captured.”_

Solas laughed as he sat back once more and regarded the pair of them, but the sound was cruel. “And yet here you are, kneeling at my feet, captured and bound and awaiting my leisure. It seems that you are, perhaps, not as good as you seem to think.”

“We have been at this for centuries,” Lyna told him, voice still quiet though she boldly met his eyes. “You are the first to capture us in all that time. This intrigues us. Our interest will hold us in your service. Whatever you provide in way of compensation is good, but being interesting is the true form of currency we work with. If someone who wants to buy our service bores us, we leave. But you… You are very interesting, far more than the employer who sent us to you.”

Solas narrowed his eyes and considered them from over the rim of his glass. “You would sell the secrets of your former employer to be entertained?” he asked, his tone not revealing what he thought of such a thing.

“They’re not _our_ secrets,” Thema told him with a shrug. “All you have to do besides paying our fees is be more interesting than the people you send us to spy on. How hard is that?”

Fury flashed in blue eyes and an instant later Thema’s jaw was clenched in a rough hand. “All I have to do?” Solas echoed. “I may do as I wish, little spy, because you are at my mercy entirely. I may do as I wish because this is _my_ domain and you are _my_ prisoners.” Thema spat in his face and he shoved her down as he pulled back. The chain yanked Lyna to the side when Thema fell, but she managed not to fall, too. Though her hands were still bound behind her back, Thema managed to find her way back into a kneeling position. Wrath burned like fire in her eyes and she clenched her jaw hard.

Solas calmed again as he sat back and took another sip, regarding them curiously. “Be more interesting, you say. Hmmph. You think to play on my pride, make me certain that no one could ever be as interesting as I am, and then betray me at the first opportunity.” He shook his head. “And you think to make me pay the spies that I have captured, as though I owe you a debt. In fact, I am still attempting to decide if you live or die. I have yet to hear a convincing reason to allow you to live.”

“We’re really good in bed,” Thema said belligerently, glaring up at the Wolf on his throne. His eyes flicked to her with interest and one brow climbed toward his hairline. “We’ve been fucking each other for centuries. We’ve been fucking other people together for centuries. We’re fucking good at fucking.” The other brow joined the first, almost disappearing beneath the mass of braids in his hair.

“Does sex _interest_ you?” Solas asked with a smirk. “If I am as good as you claim to be in bed, does that hold your interest?”

“Nearly as much as your _engaging_ personality,” Lyna told him. “Pleasure is its own sort of entertainment, don’t you agree? If one’s partner is interesting, isn’t the sex more interesting? Have you ever fucked someone with no personality to speak of? Their activities in bed reflected that blandness, I’m sure. Do you find us to be bland? Or would we be able to hold your interest? For a time, at least. I’m certain that by the time we bore you, you would either have no further need of our services or have found other ways to keep us invested in protecting your interests.”

Laughter rumbled through him, roughened by the harsh alcohol in his hand, and he leaned forward again to tilt up her chin with a finger. “You have a way with words, little spy,” he observed. Lyna met his eyes without faltering. “And perhaps you have a point. Or at the very least you make your point more eloquently than your partner.” He looked between them, still leaning forward, and sipped again from his glass. “So you would buy your freedom with your bodies and the promise of continued use. I find myself intrigued by this idea, but I am not certain that it is a good investment on my part. It would be so easy for you to betray me, would it not? So I think I shall demand a preview of what I would be purchasing by allowing you to live and roam free.”

“What do you wish?” Lyna asked quickly, and a smirk tugged those plush pink lips of his. He sat back once more, sprawling carelessly on his throne, knees spread. The pelt cushioned his broad and muscular shoulders, dark fur a lovely contrast to pale skin.

“You shall both remain bound for the time being,” he declared. “For now, show me what you can do to each other.”

“With our hands behind our backs?” Thema cried, outraged. “That’s taking away half the fun!”

“If you cannot find ways to pleasure each other with your hands bound, then you are not of _interest_ to me,” Solas informed them stonily. Determination gleamed in Thema’s eyes and Lyna raised her chin proudly. They would prove him wrong and earn this.

On their knees still, Lyna and Thema turned to each other. The kiss began gently, a twisting of tongues and little sighs, but quickly Thema began to devour Lyna, biting her lips, pulling on them, sucking her tongue. Lyna pulled away and bit her ear and Thema retaliated by leaning down to suck a nipple into her mouth. Lyna cried out and arched up, offering up her breasts to Thema instinctually. Thema growled and suckled hard, teeth scraping the flesh. Once Lyna was whimpering pathetically under her touch, she kissed her way across Lyna’s chest. As she went, she sucked mouthfuls of skin and bit them hard, leaving bruises like war paint in her wake. Lyna’s other breast received the same treatment while Lyna writhed, sitting up on her knees to bring her chest closer to Thema. It was lovely and she let everything she felt show on her face and let every moan and sigh out. Thema took the chain that linked them in her teeth and tugged, making Lyna cry out as she used the momentum to capture her lips once more.

“Enough,” Solas finally growled, voice low and rough. They looked at him, breathing heavily, and Lyna swallowed hard. He was slouched low in the throne, knees spread wide, half-finished glass in one hand and the other resting on the arm of the throne. His expression was dark and pleased, a smug smirk tugging his lips. And his loose trousers were pulled taught by the long, wide weight of his fully erect cock. Where the tip of his erection met the fabric was a wet spot that grew as they both shivered, and from the corner of her eye Lyna saw Thema lick her lips. Solas crooked a finger at them and they shuffled on their knees over to him. He took hold of the chain that bound their collars together and held it up out of the way, wrapping it in his fist until he could control how far they could pull away from him.

“Now you will show me what you can do with my cock,” he told them, eyes dark and voice darker. “You will not rise from your knees. Your hands will remain bound. _Impress me.”_

Thema leaned forward first. With her teeth and tongue alone, she untied Solas’s trousers. It was quite a feat, the knot more complicated than necessary, and his pants were damp with her saliva by the time she managed it. Then Lyna leaned forward and together they tugged the fabric down with their teeth until his cock sprang free. He hissed in a breath at the sudden cool air and likely in pain as his cock sprang back and twacked his stomach, but he said nothing. Thema closed her lips around the tip licking away all the precum that had gathered under the hood, then turned to Lyna. They shared it on a kiss and Lyna moaned at his taste.

“Divinity,” Lyna murmured, then sucked his testicle into her mouth. Thema bobbed her head on his length, sucking hard, teasing his foreskin with her lips. Lyna lavished his heavy sack with attention, then licked and kissed and sucked on the base of his cock. She pulled back when Thema took him all the way into her throat and instead spent her time at the other woman’s ear.

“How does he taste, vhenan?” Lyna murmured, then licked a trail up the length of her ear to the point. “Does he taste like a king? Is he better than other men? Does he fill your throat and leave you aching for more?” Lyna could hear Solas’s breathing speed up as she spoke, licking and nibbling Thema’s ear all the while. “He is bigger than most men, for certain. But is he better? How does he feel?” Then she bit the tip of Thema’s ear sharply. Solas’s length still in her throat, she moaned and then swallowed and Solas screamed. He pitched forward, crystal glass falling from his hand to shatter on the floor. Thema pull off of him, gasping for breath and Lyna moved forward to lick him, but he had other ideas. He pushed them to the floor, lying on their backs beside each other, and thrust two fingers into each of them. Both screamed and Lyna writhed, arching her hips for more.

“Little demons,” Solas hissed, something between lust and fury in his tone. Thema suddenly screamed and Lyna looked over to see that Solas had mounted her and his cock was buried deep inside her. One hand braced his weight on the floor beside her and the other was still buried in Lyna, fingers curling sinfully. Lyna watched as he fucked Thema, almost plowing her across the floor with the force of his thrusts. Thema’s legs locked around his waist and she thrust up to him with as much force as she could find, using her bound arms for leverage beneath her. Solas growled and leaned down to bite her breast, leaving a bright welt behind that was sure to bruise. Lyna moaned and rode Solas’s hand, pleasure flashing through her. Thema came quickly, the play and the buildup and the rough quality of the fucking undoing her. And when her orgasm subsided, Solas was still hard.

His touch left Lyna and she keened at the loss, but he soon loomed over her. She stared up at him for a breathless moment and then he plunged into her. Like Thema, she screamed, her body flooded with pleasure and the sweetest ache as she struggled to adapt to his size within her. He fucked her just as hard, just as fast, and she writhed for him. She kept his rhythm, dancing to it and using her bound hands to find some leverage to push back.

“How do we feel?” Lyna asked him even as she panted for breath and her teeth rattled from the force of his thrusts. “Are we worth the risk? Are we everything we promised?” Her only answer was a low growl and the sharp sting of teeth on her sore breasts. Lyna felt her peak fast approaching, but she fought it, wanting to outlast him. She bit her lip, muffling her moans, and clenched her legs around him.

Her struggles did not go unnoticed. _“Come,”_ Solas commanded, so close to her ear that it almost seemed as though he spoke inside her head. With a cry, she obeyed, body clenching around his, stars exploding behind her eyes, heat scorching from the inside.

Just as she felt the tremor that meant Solas was going to come, he pulled out. She managed to blink open her eyes, body still clenching desperately. He sat back and pumped his fist over himself once, twice, and then he came with a brutal yell, marking them both with his seed. Thema writhed under the hot lashes and Lyna simply writhed, still riding her own release.

Breathing heavily, Solas sat back on his heels and looked at them, a writhing and moaning mess of bodies and come and chains on the floor. Then he leaned forward and unclasped the collars from them. He lifted them up to seated positions and drew them into his arms to release the cuffs on their wrists.

“Yes,” he said, voice hoarse. “I believe we can come to an arrangement.”

Once released from the bonds and the game, Lyna collapsed against Solas, unmindful of his spend on her belly and chest, and trembled against him. Thema had her head on his shoulder as she rubbed her wrists and arms. Gently, Solas stroked Lyna’s face.

“Vhenan?” he asked softly. “Did I hurt you? Are you alright?”

She smiled up at him. “It was intense,” she murmured. Then she buried her face in his chest and shivered. He gathered them both up in his arms and tended to their needs so lovingly that neither could ever question his devotion to them. He washed their bodies and massaged their muscles and made certain they were hydrated and had food. Then they curled up together on their bed for some well-earned rest.


	18. Pain that Lingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings! Implied/referenced non-consent, implied/referenced torture, PTSD, implied/referenced forced sex work, emotional hurt/comfort, heavy angst.
> 
> I wanted to introduce more of our lore and explain more of the concept of courtesans. They are influenced by traditional Japanese geisha but somewhat more brutal due in large part to the infinite and indefinite quality of time that exists in Elvhenan. This concept will be referenced in future pieces, but I will never be explicit in my descriptions of what Lyna endured, or what any courtesan endures.  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

_The taste of blood and sweat and semen and her own juices in her mouth made her want to vomit. Pain flared across her body and she wanted so badly to scream and curl away from it. But he had told her not to make a sound. He carved into her body and into her soul with each lash of pain._ I am worth two dragons and a fortune in precious gems _, she reminded herself, jaw clenching tight around a scream she would not voice._ I am worth four centuries of training. _All her muscles seized up and cramped at the next wave of pain, but still she would not scream. She would do as she was bid and she would please Elgar’nan._ And I will be granted what I was promised. Peace and luxury for my parents and my brother. I was given into training, protected as a child, so that my family would be raised up. I will suffer so that they do not have to. They will be freed and it will be worth it. _She almost let the next scream past her throat as the pain only worsened. It was beyond anything her endurance training had prepared her for, even the rackings she had received for weeks on end. How one man could hurt her so much, violate her so much in a single night she would never have guessed. His lusts were sick, cruel beyond measure, but she would endure for her family._

 _And then it was over, the time he paid for ended, and she was tossed from his chambers to shiver and moan in the hallway. Her trainer was waiting and he bid her to stand. He curled his lip in disgust at her ruined body and his whip cracked across her shoulders but she could not feel it through all her other pain. Still, she stood, four centuries of training demanding that she obey. He threw a robe around her shoulders since her dress had been torn from her body and she was naked. On shaking legs that threatened to give out with every step, broken bones screaming protest at the slightest movement, she followed where he led. For a full cycle of the sun and moon she had not screamed or cried, but upon seeing what awaited her she did. She fell to her knees in the tiny room her family had shared and she screamed and pressed her hands to the cold blood and gaping wound in her brother’s neck. He had been so young, barely a child, not even marked by Vallaslin yet, and they had killed him. Her parents lay beside him, dead in the same manner._ Now you belong only to your queen _, her trainer had told her as she screamed and cried._ Now you will only be loyal to her _._ And your family has been freed, as promised. _She would have stayed in that room with her family and allowed her wounds to consume her. She would have laid there to die with the reason she had endured. But it was not allowed. She was yanked to her feet and forced to move on. She was given no time to mourn, barely any time to heal her body before she was sold again. It was to be her lot in life, nothing but her duty and her queen. Hunting became her only escape and she excelled until she was given command. Dancing, which had been her greatest joy in her training, became a dreaded thing, the beginning of her pain as she danced for those who would bid on her to buy her company. She fell into despair and nothing existed but the two braids in her hair, two duties she was forced to attend. There was nothing but pain, nothing but what she was._ I am only worth what I can do. I am worth no more than my body. But I will not break. I am me and I am someone and I matter. I will not break. I will not… _And she did not break, but she bent and twisted and writhed in agony._

Lyna came awake with a scream, the nightmare gripping her tightly, eyes blind to the world with memory clouding them. Thema leapt from the bed with a snarl, dagger in hand, and Solas roused beside her, sluggish as he was woken from his deep sleep by her pain. Thema relaxed when she saw no intruder, no threat besides the past, and returned to bed. Solas reached out to touch her but she shrieked and shrank from him. Thema knelt on the bed beside her and put her face in Lyna’s field of vision.

“What is it? What happened?” she asked urgently. “Talk to me, vhenan.” Lyna blinked and slowly she began to see the starlight hair bathed in delicate colors by the dawn of an autumn day.

She did not know what she said, could not hear her own voice over the echoes of her own screams in her ears. She thought perhaps that she spoke of that first time she was sold, her carefully guarded chastity sold to the highest bidder as she danced to show herself off. She thought perhaps she spoke of the training of a courtesan, how she had been selected when she was six years old and guarded every moment of the day to ensure her diet and health and chastity. Perhaps she spoke of the invasive test performed once she reached maturity to confirm her chastity and physical form and beauty. Perhaps she even spoke of her parents, who despaired when she passed every test and was given into the care of her trainer, who saw her whenever they could and loved her through it all and tried so hard to apologize for giving her away but she’d always known they had no choice. Perhaps she spoke of how they had another child to replace the one they’d been forced to give away as she reached the end of her training. Perhaps she spoke of her little brother, whom she’d loved dearly for his innocence and his fortune that he would not be chosen like her. Perhaps she spoke of the training she endured while around her life moved on as normal. Perhaps she spoke of the dancing that became a passion, how it freed her mind when she trusted her body. Perhaps she spoke of the training of pleasing her patron, how she learned both male and female bodies and how to pleasure them. Perhaps she spoke of the endurance training, for she would need the ability to continue on through any pain, even near death. Perhaps she spoke of that first performance, her debut, in which she danced so perfectly that Elgar’nan himself, their king of kings, had offered to pay any price to take her chastity. Perhaps she spoke of that cycle with him, of all his many perversions, of the way she could still taste her own virgin’s blood in her mouth when the memories assailed her once more. She didn’t know what she spoke of, but she spoke as dawn became day and her two lovers listened silently.

Words were said back to her, but she did not know them, couldn’t understand as the sound of her own screams filled her head. Thema spat angry words and she struggled not to cower as she once had. Solas was gentle, his tone kind but not pitying. She listened to his voice, the smooth glide of syllables that did not form words. She rocked herself slowly to the beat of his heart and slowly her own racing pulse matched it. Thema slowly calmed and joined the rhythm, compassion in her tone. It took a long time, day bleeding into dusk, but eventually they could pull her into their arms and cradle her between their bodies.

Love was whispered in her ears from both sides, assurances that she would never be what she had been again and the one who had ordered it all done was dead. The words made sense again slowly, words of love and gentleness and comfort, but never of pity. She was strong and she did not break, was never broken. She was beautiful because she was herself. She was Lyna and she was important. She was their heart.

But she needed to be asleep, had months left in her uthenera, and she had roused Solas from his as well. Even Thema had been asleep when she woke, though the woman did not need to sleep for seasons at a time. She began to feel silly and in the way, a bother, and she apologized. But they hushed her, would not let her feel small or in the way. And she settled back into her deep and dreaming sleep, comforted and loved and cherished for who she was. Her body was not what her two lovers wanted and the vhenan’nahr in her hair proved that. They loved her because of who she had become and she was worth everything to them. She could rest.


	19. Brief Illness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thema has the flu and her lovers take care of her.  
> Prompted by lehavashadowsun, who isn't feeling well.  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

Lyna wiped Thema’s brow with a damp cloth, her magic infusing it with a gentle chill, and the woman moaned. Lyna brushed her hair back as she pulled at the pillow that cushioned her. Thema had wanted to be close to Lyna, so she’d put their fluffiest pillow in her lap for her lover. Lyna wiped her cold cloth on Thema’s brow again and she grunted her discontent.

“Hush, vhenan, try to rest,” Lyna murmured.

“Fuck that,” Thema replied with muted venom.

“You’ll feel better if you rest,” Lyna insisted.

“Can’t you just heal me?” Thema groaned again.

“Some illnesses are resistant to magic,” Lyna reminded her yet again. “You’ve contracted one. Your body will take of it naturally and I am here to treat your symptoms as best as I can. Just rest and you will heal.” Thema groaned.

They were silent for a while as Lyna wiped Thema’s sweat and kept her skin cool to combat the fever. Every so often Lyna would murmur comfort or sweet nothings and Thema would only grunt in response. When Solas returned, he was greeted by a pathetic moan and a grasping hand. With a gentle smile, he sat on the bed beside the two women.

“Feeling any better, my heart?” he asked her gently.

“No,” she growled. Solas chuckled slightly and Lyna smiled; Thema would never change.

“Her fever is rising but shows signs of breaking soon,” Lyna told him. “That process will be terrible, but once it is done the worst should be over. She’ll be fine.”

“I know she will be fine,” Solas told Lyna with a smile. “She is too stubborn not to be.” Thema grumbled wordlessly at them both.

“My bones hurt,” she told them, a thread of fear in the irritability.

“It is only the fever, my love,” Lyna soothed. She sent a gentle pulse of magic through Thema’s body and felt the woman relax as the pain settled slightly.

“Here, you need water,” Solas said gently. He lifted Thema up until he could press a glass of cold water to her lips. She drank it slowly and then settled back onto her pillow. “Stay hydrated through this. It will help.” Thema grunted at him and he smiled as he stroked her face. Despite her irritable attitude she leaned into his touch gratefully.

“Don’t leave again,” Thema grumbled, clutching at him. He chuckled and laid down, pillowing his head on Thema’s belly.

“Life goes on outside this room while you are ill,” Solas teased, and was promptly swatted while he chuckled. “I won’t need to leave again for at least a week,” he assured her as she settled.

“Good,” she grunted. Then she sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Soon enough, she managed to fall into a light sleep and Lyna sighed in relief, echoed by Solas. Thema would be fine.


	20. Terasyl'an Tel'as

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "3some AU: Solas has a dream about the restoration of Elvhenan, his wives by his side and a newborn child in his arms. Prior to finding his wives, right after returning to Skyhold and the memories contained within."  
> Prompt from lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

Solas ran his hands over the molding walls of Terasyl’an Tel’as to feel the ancient stones, newer than the ones he had laid, and feel the tug of ancient power. It had been so very long since he’d last walked these halls. That seemed like a different life, a piece of himself that had died when the Veil was raised and he was thrown into sleep and cut off, perhaps forever, from the love of his heart.

He had gone over each and every stone of this secret stronghold with Thema and Lyna, weaving his magic with Lyna’s to lay a net of intricate spells over the entire place with Thema’s suggestions to make it stronger, better, more defensible. Without their help, it would not still be standing, would be nothing but a few snow-covered rocks on a nameless mountain. Whoever had found it after it was abandoned would never have thought to rebuild it because it would not have been strong enough to bother repairing if not for their hard work.

It was difficult, so very difficult, for Solas to walk these halls again without the two missing pieces of his heart. He could see them in the stone, feel them in the air, sense them in the magic, but they were not there. It was only a wisp of memory, of laughter, of finding light in the darkest days together. It had been well over a year since he woke and still he had heard not a single whisper of their presence anywhere. Even here, where he was the closest he’d been to them in millennia, he knew it was only memories impressed upon the foundation of their ancient home; they were not here.

Solas sighed heavily and turned his wandering steps with purpose. He had been awake for two days trying to set up what he needed and washing away some of his pain and fear by painting a new fresco in the rotunda. He needed to sleep, and perhaps in this place that still held the memory of his loves so strongly he could find the trail that would lead him to their resting place. He carefully did not let his hopes grow high, but he held on to the thread that he could still find them, that they were merely sleeping somewhere as he had been. He held that thought as he found the small room he had been allotted in the castle that had once been his.

The bed he crawled into was large, as he preferred. Even since waking alone he always had room in his bed for two beautiful women. He could not stand to sleep in a smaller bed; it felt as though by having a bed that only fit him he was admitting that he would never find them. He would not allow that thought to take root, and so he had too much room for himself as he gathered his blankets and furs and draped them over his legs. He curled onto his side and could almost pretend that strong but slender arms slid across the mattress to hold him tight. He reached out as though to embrace the nearest body but found nothing but empty sheets. He sighed and forced his thoughts to quiet so that he could sleep.

 

* * *

 

In the tower room in the middle of Terasyl’an Tel’as, a woman was screaming. Solas held her hand tighter and spewed words of encouragement and strength, but he did not know if she heard. On her other side was another woman, also saying anything she could think of to soothe the screaming woman.

“You can do this, Lyna, just a little more,” Solas told her. The Spirit of Motherhood at the end of the bed was nodding, ready to catch the child as it was birthed.

“Push, Lyna, push! You’re almost there!” Thema chanted, struggling to stay calm. Solas’s hand was turning blue in Lyna’s bone-crushing grip, but he didn’t care at all. She could have pulverized every bone in his body at that moment and he wouldn’t have minded. Thema wiped a cloth over Lyna’s sweaty face, keeping the salty drops out of her eyes. Lyna’s milky hair was dark with sweat and tangled around her face, her violet eyes dark as her pupils expanded with her adrenaline. Over her bulging belly, Thema and Solas shared a worried look. This was their first child and the first child born since the restoration of Elvhenan and they feared for both mother and babe. But Lyna was strong, stubborn, and determined; she would last through this as she had through far worse things before.

Finally, just as a new dawn tinted the sky pink and blue, the screaming of an infant sounded through the room. The Spirit of Motherhood gathered the child into its form and bathed it with magic, then wrapped it in a blanket. Burning stronger, brighter for having served its purpose, it settled the child in Lyna’s waiting arms as she sobbed with relief. Solas leaned nearer, almost bumping heads with Thema as they peered into the bundle of cloth Lyna held.

 _“The child is healthy, whole and well, and shall live as true Elvhen,”_ the spirit told them, then vanished. All three new parents drew ragged breaths of relief at once, then smiled at each other. Thema was blinking back tears furiously, her eyes gleaming despite her efforts. Lyna openly wept, hormones combining with emotion to make it inescapable, and Solas could feel hot tracks on his face as he gazed down into the face of a beautiful newborn child. His child. Her child. Their child. A child with three parents to love and care for it equally.

“Well?” Thema whispered eagerly. “Is it a boy or a girl?” They all held their breath as Lyna gently unwrapped the blanket from the screaming, squirming infant she held.

“It’s a girl,” Lyna finally said, voice hoarse from screaming and choked with tears. A short sob left her. “We have a daughter.” Solas sobbed with her, gathering his family into his arms. Thema hid her face in Lyna’s shoulder and Solas felt her shoulders shake, and soon enough she was sobbing too. And they were all a mess, all four of them sobbing as they held each other.

“Can I hold her?” Thema asked after a while, sniffling and wiping away her tears. Their daughter had stopped screaming and transferred to her other mother’s arms with a little cry of protest. Thema cradled the little girl carefully as Solas and Lyna watched, her eyes overflowing again. She said nothing, simply held her new baby and silently cried. After a time, she offered the infant to Solas.

In his arms, his daughter was tiny and soft and delicate. She looked up at her father with wide blue eyes, unfocused and new. He stroked her cheek and she babbled softly at him, startling a sobbing laugh from his chest. He looked up at his wives, at Lyna and Thema who watched him avidly, and he felt the most profound happiness suffuse his soul. He had his family, two beautiful and loving women and now a daughter to care for. He knew he would be outmatched by the three women once their daughter grew, even more so than he already was. He looked forward to it, to all of it.

 

* * *

 

Solas woke with a gasp, thrashing under his blankets. He reached out, hands searching on either side of him for warm skin and sleepy murmurs, but he found nothing. He blinked and frowned, then touched his face; he was crying. He remembered the dream, remembered where he was.

There were no loving women in his bed, there was no daughter in a crib nearby, and the Veil still sundered the world. Everything he wanted was still so far out of reach. He had hoped to find Thema and Lyna, to see them again, but he had wanted to locate their sleeping bodies in the waking world and not be tormented by visions of what could not be. He wiped his face but new tears fell.

“Where could they be?” he asked in a whisper as though the ancient walls around him would answer. “Where is my heart?”

His one-time home was silent and did not answer. Solas dropped his head in his hands and sobbed.


	21. Gently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "3some AU: So we've seen some hardcore fucking, but what about some slow love making?"  
> Prompt from lehavashadowsun
> 
> "Your wish is my command, ara’av! I’ll be combining this with your request for paired sex between Lyna and Solas, as well as a little backstory and soft hurt/comfort."  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“No, magnify the force of the spell,” Lyna said, shaking her head and as she watched Solas tinker with the talisman.

He frowned at her. “That will fracture the substance of the energy,” he rebuffed. “It will burn out before it can be used.”

“No, it won’t, not if you modify the electricity balance,” she said, lifting a hand and letting her fingertips crackle with lightning magic. “Like that. Just a little to balance the force of it and bend the light around it further. The final product will be a stronger effect. The wearer can then remain undetected for nearly twice as long.” Solas still looked dubious and Lyna rolled her eyes. “Trust me,” she urged. “If I’m wrong, then we do the next one your way and I’ll even carve the amulet myself.” Solas sighed and modified his spell as she suggested. With a snap and the smell of ozone, the spell took hold in the amulet. He put it on and touched the trigger in the amulet and Lyna watched light bend around his form until he was all but invisible. In low light, he would be completely undetectable, but even in a brightly lit area he would only be seen by those who knew what to look for. He turned off the spell and smiled.

“You were right,” he told her, running final checks on their creation. “It’s strong and more stable.” Lyna shrugged, pleased, and rolled over onto her back on the bed.

“This is why you should simply trust me, ma lath,” she sighed with a smile. Solas chuckled and she heard him set the amulet in its case. “Of course, it’ll take a long time for it to recharge,” Lyna continued, still thinking over the spell. “Unless the wearer is familiar with the force/lightning balance integrated into the concept of bending light using crystals, they won’t be able to charge it manually. You or I could easily charge it back up in moment, but otherwise it would take perhaps a few weeks to return to full charge. I should think it could be safely used at only partial charge, but of course the time limit will be correspondingly-“ She broke off with a cry as Solas sealed her lips with his. She sighed into his mouth after a moment and welcomed him into her mouth. He shifted over the bed until he was lying beside her, cradling her face in his hand.

“What was that for?” Lyna asked softly when he broke away to breathe. He stroked her hair away from her face gently.

“You are so brilliant, vhenan,” he murmured, awe in his gaze as he watched her face.

Lyna felt herself blush under the praise. “I am a fast learner, that’s all,” she demurred, but he shook his head.

“I was raised with this sort of high-level magic,” he reminded her, “yet I never would have thought to use this balance of force and lightning to amplify the effect as you suggested. You are brilliant.” Lyna looked away, unsure how to respond, but Solas stroked her face and encouraged her to look at him again. “I know you dislike praise,” he told her seriously. “I know that you credit your ability and your talents to the awful training you underwent as a slave. But it is not true. You are beautiful for more than merely your form. You dance so fluidly, like water flowing around rocks. You ask your body to perform impossible tasks and it does so with grace. This is the result of training, yes, but that training only took because you willed it so. You worked hard and you loved it and kept up your practice. These traits are part of who you are. But you were never trained in magic; you learned it yourself. You were taught only enough to not be a danger, but you are the most skilled healer I have ever known. You create more beautiful and incredible creatures than Ghilan’nain ever did. You have a grasp on magical theory to rival any master I studied under. These things come from you, not what you were forced to become. And they are beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Lyna felt her eyes prickling as she closed them and leaned into Solas’s hand. “You are too good to me, vhenan,” she told him. He kissed her face.

“That will never be true,” he murmured as he nibbled her ear. She giggled a little, squirming on the bed.

His hands slid up her sides, rucking up her loose shirt that was all she wore besides panties. She liked to be comfortable when she worked on magicks. Solas bit her neck gently, sucking on the skin to send a warm rush to her core. The shirt was pulled off a moment later and tossed away and then his hands were on her skin, warm and rough and gentle as he caressed her. She pulled away his tunic and tugged at the laces on his trousers while his hand slipped into her panties to gently run along her folds. When she finally managed to free him from the trousers she found him already hard as he kicked away the fabric.

“Excited, are we?” she teased, then tugged his earlobe with her teeth. He hissed in a breath.

“Your very existence excites me,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers and heat through her. “Your intelligence arouses me.” He began to kiss his way slowly down her body. “Your dances frequently cause spontaneous orgasm.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth until it hardened under his teeth and tongue. “Your skills as a huntress intrigue me.” Her other nipple received the same treatment until she was moaning, her fingers gliding through his loose hair. “Your skills as a diplomat charm me.” He bit the bottom of her ribcage gently and she arched up to him. “Your humor keeps me laughing for years.” He kissed her navel and licked a circle around it as she shivered. “Your compassion makes me feel safe.” He tugged down her panties with his teeth, then pulled them off her legs as he kissed her hips. “Your body calls to me, arouses me, yes, but it is not why I love you.” And then he buried his face between her legs and licked her furiously.

Lyna arched her back and cried out, hands threading through his hair as he devoured her. He dove in without hesitation and at the first touch of his tongue she felt orgasm building. Oh, how he could charm her with his words…

A finger gently entered her, teasing along her inner walls, and she moaned, writhing. His tongue pressed on her clit and heat spread through her. With a masterful but gentle touch, knowing exactly the touches she preferred, he sent her spiraling into a sweet, soft, gentle orgasm that left her limp and relaxed with tingles across all her nerves. She smiled up at Solas when her senses returned. He was running his tongue across his lower lip and enjoying what he found there and that sight ignited the spark within her once more.

Lyna sat up, intending to straddle him and perhaps take him into her mouth before she rode him, but he pressed her gently down and kissed her throat. “No, ma lath, you do not need to dance for me,” he whispered as he pulled back. “Let me give without taking today. Let me be selfless just once.” Lyna frowned and reached up, cradling his face in her hands.

“You love my dances,” she reminded him as though he had forgotten. “I love to dance,” she added because it was true.

“But you do not need to dance for me to want you,” he told her gently. “Let me prove it.” Uncertainly, she nodded, and he rewarded her with a soft smile and a sweet kiss flavored by her juices on his tongue.

He raised himself above her and she welcomed him into the cradle of her thighs. He entered her slowly, gently, and the friction sent sparks across her skin. Her body adjusted as he inched further in with slow, shallow thrusts, each one pressing just a little further inside, until he was seated fully within her. And Lyna sighed as she looked up at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her gently and watched her face as he thrust into her. It was bliss, his movements slow and measured, giving more pleasure to her than he received. She moved under him as best as she could, but his weight effectively pinned her down. Still, she could raise her hips to meet his thrusts and she did so. It was not a dance, not even writhing, and it was gentle, easy. Solas kissed her sweetly and she moaned into his mouth.

He picked up speed gradually until each thrust pressed sharply against the most perfect places inside her, but he was not plowing her across the bed. She doubted she would even feel sore in her hips when they were done because of how gentle he was. And yet it was lovely, the strength of his clear adoration of her bringing almost as much pleasure as his body did. He was selfless as he had promised, slipping a hand between their bodies to gently circle her clit as he kissed her face.

He changed the angle of his hips just right as he pressed on her clit and she orgasmed with a gasp. It was gentle, waves sweeping her away in pleasure, heat fluttering across her skin and her nerves tingling pleasantly. She felt his thrusts grow erratic as she squeezed him and then she heard his rough groan as he spent his seed inside her, his face buried in her neck.

And then Lyna burst into tears, his cock still softening inside their combined wetness. She pressed her hands against her face and Solas gathered her close, whispering sweet and loving words in her ears.

“I love you for you, Lyna. You are beautiful because of who you are. I want to give you all the pleasures at my disposal. You are my heart.” On and on it went as she was overwhelmed with feeling, unable to sort through it all. But finally she calmed, wiping her face dry, and grinned up at Solas. She leaned up and took his lips in a grateful kiss.

“I love you, Solas,” she reminded him. “Thank you.”

“Always, my heart,” he promised, smiling back.

The sound of the door opening interrupted whatever response Lyna might have made. “Oh. Hey.” Both of them looked toward the sound and found Thema standing in the doorway, bow still strapped to her back and dirty armor half removed. “Looks like you two had fun.” She grinned at them. “All done with the boring magic shit? I hunted a boar if you’re hungry.” And then she turned and sauntered away. Lyna laughed as Solas shook his head, grinning.

“I am hungry,” Lyna admitted. Solas kissed her nose and then smiled as she scrunched her face in response.

“Then let’s get cleaned up,” he said, rolling off her.


	22. Drunk on Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "for dwc: the trio go skinny dipping under the stars. Drinking and talking about existence? ;))"  
> Prompted by @fenharel-em-halam on tumblr and combined with lehavashadowsun's request for a bar fight  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

Lyna balanced three drinks on her hands with the ease of long practice as she made her way from the bar back to the little table she and her vhenan had claimed for themselves in a corner of the tavern. As she did so, she blew a strand of hair out of her face. In order to blend in with the commoners they had all removed most of the braids, only the most basic duties remaining, and as a result most of Lyna’s hair was free to tangle and get in her face.

The cups in her hands were all different sizes, which made carrying them interesting, especially since it was not their first round. The largest was Thema’s tankard of cider, the largest size the tavern would serve. The smallest was her own glass of the sweetest enchanted liqueur that would bloom with many flavors even after she’d swallowed it. In between those sizes was a drink so ridiculous that the man making the drinks had given her a strange look. It was essentially liquefied chocolate mixed with an incredibly strong enchanted liqueur. That one had been expensive enough, the chocolate unusual enough, that the tavern owner had demanded payment up front before the ingredients were even brought out.

Lyna was almost back the table and two waiting smiles when a very drunk man passed behind her and almost made her drop everything she carried by pinching her backside. She gasped and the drinks wobbled, chocolate spilling over into her drink and cider ending up on the floor, but she kept her hold on them.

“Don’t touch me!” Lyna admonished with a scowl, setting down the table and turning to face the intruder. He was grinning, unrepentant, cheeks flushed and ruddy from his own drinks.

“Come now, sweet, I need a few drinks over at my table,” he slurred, leaning close enough that she could smell the stink of cheap ale on his breath. She leaned away and pointedly sat in her chair between Thema and Solas.

“I am not serving,” she told him, leaning on Thema as Solas stood.

“I suggest you leave,” Solas told him. Lyna leaned close into Thema’s embrace as her arms snaked around her. “You are being incredibly rude to my heart, and none of us appreciate it.”

The man looked between Solas, Thema, and Lyna and snorted. “You’re a damn selfish bastard!” he cried. “Takin’ all the pretty ones! Why d’you get two bitches like that? Bet the one with the purple eyes just wants your money and the blue-eyed slut just wants your dick. Hey, are you two sisters? With all that hair you might be! That’s hot!”

Lyna clenched her hands on Thema’s arms around her to hold the woman in place, her own jaw clenched so hard her teeth hurt. Lyna was so focused on keeping Thema in line that she didn’t realize until far too late that she should have been worried about her other lover. The first punch flew before anyone could blink and the drunkard staggered back with a hand on his face. Then he flew into a rage.

The drunken man’s first blow landed only because Solas allowed it to, splitting his lip and crunching his nose sickeningly. And then he was on the offender, pinning him to the floor and beating him with only his fists, not even the crackle of magic in the air around him. The man attempted to fight back but he was unused to hand to hand combat. Solas was only as good as he was because Thema had been teaching him some of her kickboxing techniques, but even if she hadn’t his sheer rage and natural physical power still would have won the fight. As it was, the man was reduced to a moaning, bleeding lump on the floor of the tavern in very little time. Lyna stared, awestruck, as Solas slowly stood and wiped his lip. It was the ultimate insult to assault someone like that, no magic to fight with, only fists. It was the greatest disrespect the drunk on the floor would likely ever receive and Lyna could hardly believe it had been on her account.

She stood from Thema’s limp grasp and ran to Solas, the tavern silent around them. She put her hands on his face and healed the damage done by the single punch he had suffered, his split lip sealing back together with ease. His eyes were wide and dark and he wrapped his arms around her waist as she healed him, chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline, but he said nothing. The moment her magic faded from him, he crushed her lips under his. She held his face in her hands as he bent her backwards, claiming her eagerly in front of everyone in the tavern.

“You’re such an idiot,” she whispered to him when he finally released her lips, but she couldn’t contain her grin.

Behind them rose a sudden loud whoop and they turned to see Thema grinning and applauding. “I am so fucking proud of you!” she yelled. She ended up snagged by the shirtsleeve and had her lips crushed in the same manner that Lyna’s had been, and then he simply held them both.

“You are my heart,” he told them while the drunk on the floor attempted to crawl away. “I could not allow such insults to you.”

Lyna was speechless, flushed and flustered, but Thema was grinning and still laughing as she threw her arms around them both. “Yeah, I know,” she told him. The low murmur of the voices in tavern gained volume as the owner walked over to them.

“The three of you need to leave,” he said, glowering. All three of them picked up their drinks and chugged them down. Then Solas left a few extra coins on the table, presumably as an apology for the mess of blood on the floor. As they stepped past the drunk on the floor again, Thema gave him a good kick to the kidney and made him curl into the fetal position with a choked moan. The snap of the tavern owner’s angry magic followed them out into the street.

Solas sighed fondly. “It’s been quite a while since I ended up kicked out of a tavern,” he said, gazing at the decisively closed door through the haze of his buzz and adrenaline high. Thema laughed.

“So it’s happened before?” she asked. Lyna stayed silent, holding onto them both as they all wandered away from the tavern at the edge of a small town at the edge of her territory, streetlamps and moonlight guiding them.

“Oh yes,” Solas admitted easily, wrapping an arm around each of them. “Before I met the two of you, I spent a fair amount of time in places like that, getting drunk and often ending up with a barmaid on her back in the storeroom. I would celebrate victories as Mythal’s general that way.”

“And you’re just so responsible now,” Lyna muttered, making them both burst out laughing. She smiled to herself, pleased, as she received a sloppy kiss on the side of her head. Her final drink was beginning to hit her and the world was pleasingly hazy around her.

“Hardly!” Solas chortled. “But I am, perhaps, more stable now, thanks in large part to the two of you.”

Thema snorted. “As if!” she cried, tugging them down a random road away from town. “I’m probably more irresponsible than either of you! The only reason we’re not all dead is probably Lyna.”

“Oh, thank you!” Lyna said sarcastically. “I always wanted to be a mother to two fully-grown people who should know better and are also having sex with me regularly!” All three of them doubled over laughing in the street.

The shimmer of a large lake glimmered between the buildings and Lyna tugged them both toward it. They followed easily, still joking and relaxed together, pleasantly drunk. When they reached the water, Lyna found a hidden stretch of beach and sat down, staring out at the water.

“Hey!” Thema suddenly cried far too loudly. “Let’s go swimming!” Solas chuckled. Before anyone could stop her, she stood and began to strip.

“Thema!” Lyna cried. “Are you just going to go swimming naked? What if someone sees?”

“No one’s around,” Thema retorted. “It’s the middle of the night and everyone is at home or drinking. Come on! It’ll be fun!”

While Lyna was focused on Thema, Solas managed to sneak up on her and yank off her shirt. Thema chortled while Lyna gasped. “Fine! Fine,” she laughed, failing completely to maintain her previous air of offended responsibility. They all three stripped down and left their clothing in a pile on the sand, then waded into the lake. Thema splashed her and Lyna splashed back, which resulted in a water fight with a lot of screeching and giggling. Solas attempted to stay out of it and merely watch, but Lyna swam underwater to escape Thema’s constant wave of water and yanked his feet out from under him.

When she surfaced Thema was clutching herself and laughing so hard she was wheezing. Solas looked like a drowned rat, his hair hanging in his face and a glower that quickly changed to mischief as he suddenly threw kelp in her face. She screeched and tackled him in the water. Somehow Thema ended up between her body and Solas’s as the three of them wrestled in the water.

Hours later, when they were all exhausted and their skin was pruning, they lay on the beach together and counted the stars. Lyna was still feeling her buzz from earlier and suspected that the others were as well, but gentle fingers were trailing over her skin and she suspected her hands were busy as well but couldn’t be bothered to check. She was exhausted and happy, sand and kelp in her hair and her lovers beside her.

“It’s amazing that no matter where you go, assholes are everywhere,” Thema said after a while. It wasn’t angry, merely contemplative and resigned.

“I will never allow anyone to objectify either of you,” Solas vowed, voice strong and certain. Lyna felt a flutter in her belly, love blooming in her chest.

“I could have forgiven him if he had not involved the two of you,” Lyna said, voice dreamy and far away. Thema snorted.

“That’s exactly why he ended up on the ground,” she said. “You’re our heart and we’ll never let anyone treat you like that again. You’ve been through enough. Never again.”

“I love you both so much,” Lyna sighed happily.

“We are one heart,” Solas said softly. “We will always care for each other.” Lyna grinned and took their hands in hers. In this way, relaxed and tired and still buzzed, they passed the night, hair and skin drying in the cool breeze and the stars wheeling above them.


	23. Poisoned Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A direct prequel to A Moment's Escape. Lyna must accuse Fen'Harel of horrible mistreatment of herself and Thema in order to keep up appearances and maintain their positions as Evanuris, where they can do the most good for their cause.

The party was boring and frustrating and Thema was showing it. She glowered and slouched and fidgeted. But Lyna kept her serenity firmly in place, smiling and laughing and working the room with her usual ease. Yet it was only long practice and necessity that kept her smiling and happy when the party was for Elgar’nan’s recent victory over the forces of Fen’Harel.

“The cowards didn’t even fight to the last man!” Elgar’nan was saying, swaying with drunkenness as he recounted the tale yet again. He had a slave sitting on his lap and another at his feet, both attractive young women whom Lyna would be purchasing from him as soon as the party ended. He would have already forgotten who they were by then. “We decimated half their force and then they fled into the trees! Didn’t even take an eluvian! They’ll die of the elements before they make it back to whatever hideaway they have.” Lyna struggled not to roll her eyes. She knew about their hidden eluvian network and the fact that every one of Solas’s army was more than capable of living in the wilderness. But that was a difficult thing for one so accustomed to the luxuries of court to accept; Elgar’nan did not remember a time before Arlathan any longer.

“Did you send scouts after them?” Mythal asked, voice overly silky as she glared hard at the two slaves who were rubbing themselves against him. The two women had no choice; they wore Elgar’nan’s Vallaslin and had to do as they were bid regardless of Mythal’s wrath. Lyna would buy them the moment Elgar’nan tired of them.

Elgar’nan snorted. “Of course not. I was not about to lose soldiers to the damn woods!” Mythal sighed in annoyance and Lyna narrowed her eyes on the woman, wondering if her betrayal of imminent. It was becoming increasingly clear that she was more concerned about her husband’s infidelity than their cause.

It was only a short while later that Elgar’nan stood, grabbed the two slaves, and stepped out of the party. Lyna clenched her teeth, wishing she could save them from what was coming, knowing far too intimately what they were facing. But there was nothing she could do until Elgar’nan was finished. She would not have to pay for the two, however; he would believe them dead or simply wouldn’t notice their disappearance. And they would be freed.

“He’s always been a coward, unwilling to sacrifice for the good of the war,” Falon’din declared, waving his glass through the air and conveniently forgetting that he had once fancied the declared traitor. “He always takes the option not to give lives. It’s lost him more battles than it’s won.” He shook his head sadly, also forgetting that it had been Solas’s tactics that had brought him to heel when he waged war for more territory centuries before. Solas was the reason he had been pushed back into his own lands and made to stay there. Then his piercing eyes fell upon Lyna and Thema. “You two knew him best,” he sneered. “Was he always such a coward?” Thema rolled her eyes but Lyna laughed heartily, feeling her soul darken as she did.

 _“Always,”_ she confessed, eyes dancing with glee. “If he hadn’t had such a big… _talent…_ we never would have put up with him!” She sat back in her chair, allowing her posture to slouch as she considered the wine in her glass and pursed her lips. “He made many promises he did not keep,” she told them all softly, as though imparting a secret. These words had been carefully thought out, discussed between herself and Thema, but only she could be the one to deliver them convincingly. Thema had mourned the necessity but Lyna had attempted to assure her, yet still she felt her heart screaming in her chest. “He also made many promises that he _did_ keep.”

Dirthamen sat forward, the chance for gossip and juicy secrets piquing his interest. “What promises?” he asked eagerly, leaning on his brother. Falon’din wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder as all the Evanuris watched her closely. She smiled sadly and it was not feigned; she hated that she had to say this, had to lay this accusation upon her heart, but the others were getting too close. They were watching too carefully for signs of Andruil and Ghilan’nain helping Fen’Harel in some way and she needed to put them off the scent.

“He promised kindness to us at first,” Lyna said in a conspiratorial tone. “He did not deliver. He promised punishments when we did not please him. This he did act upon.”

“But you are as strong as him! Surely you could put him off!” Falon’din scoffed. “There was no need to stay if he treated you poorly!” Mythal’s eyes flashed but Falon’din didn’t notice. Lyna smiled at him and leaned closer, teasing him with a view down her bodice.

“Have you ever grappled with an opponent twice your size who has nullified your magic?” she asked him, voice low and intimate. “I do not recommend doing so. You will not win.” Then she sat back and gulped her wine both for show and for the blessed numbness from the horror of what she was saying. To accuse Solas of the same atrocities she had endured for centuries before taking up Ghilan’nain’s mantle made her feel sick and woozy, but it was a necessary evil to keep herself and Thema hidden among the Evanuris, where they could do the most good. That was what she told herself as she teased the others with vague images of powerless women bent to the will of an evil wolf.

“I apologize,” she finally said as she stood from the table after enduring countless questions about exactly _how_ Fen’Harel had hurt her and responding with implied brutality. “This subject has put off my appetite. I would like to retire for the time being, but I will return before the closing ceremonies.”

“I’ll come with you, vhenan,” Thema said, standing as well. “I won’t let you be alone when you’re not well.” She glared around at the others accusingly, letting them see her displeasure for the sheer volume of questions they’d asked. Though it had been discussed, allowed, it was still awful.

Elgar’nan returned just as Thema and Lyna left, the three of them bowing to each other. Lyna followed Elgar’nan’s trail to a hidden alcove, where the two slaves were curled up in agony and trying to heal each other with shaking hands. They gasped and tried to move away when they saw Andruil and Ghilan’nain approaching.

“Hush, now, be still,” Lyna soothed, sending her magic ahead of her body and washing them both in pain relief. Both relaxed and allowed the two Evanuris closer. Lyna focused on the more gravely injured one first while Thema soothed the other and covered her modesty. Broken bones were easily mended, torn flesh sewn back together, and the woman was healed quickly through the ease of long practice and great power. She sat on the floor, shaking, while Lyna healed her companion.

“What are your names?” Thema asked them. They stared at her in silence for a while.

“I’m Adhlea,” the first to be healed said at last. She had golden hair and a willowy figure, incredibly delicate-looking like a porcelain doll. “That’s Nehnisa.” The other woman was dark-haired but slender and small like her companion.

“Seems like Elgar’nan has a type,” Thema muttered, noticing the similarities between these two slender women and Lyna herself. Lyna only grunted in response, displeased but in agreement.

“Adhlea, Nehnisa, listen to me carefully,” Lyna said in a murmur. She threw up a sound barrier around the four of them so that they would not be overheard. “I know that you have just endured a great injustice because I endured it myself from the very same man. I wish I could have saved you from it but we all would have been killed had I tried. Instead I have come to offer you a way out.” Nehnisa grabbed Adhlea’s hand as they gasped.

“The rumors are true!” she exclaimed on a breath. “You _are_ helping us!”

“As much as we can,” Lyna told them, nodding. “We can get you out and tell you where to go. From there, Solas’s people will find you and take care of you.”

“But what is said about him…” Adhlea protested, brow furrowed. “Better the evil we know!”

Thema snorted and Lyna shook her head. “It is all lies,” she confessed to them, feeling just a little lighter as she told them the truth. “He is a good man. He has always been good to us and he will protect you. You will be free.”

“You’ve heard the whispers,” Nehnisa urged, clutching Adhlea’s hand tightly. “You know the stories. We have to go! I can’t do that again! I can’t be his property anymore, not when there’s another choice!”

“But my sister…” Adhlea protested.

“She can go with you,” Thema told them. Adhlea relaxed. She bit her lip, thinking, then nodded.

“Okay,” she said, and Nehnisa grinned. “What do we have to do?”

The instructions were given, directions to the one of the hidden passages, the path through the eluvians that would take them through three unseen rebel checkpoints before they arrived at the spot where they would be taken in by Solas’s people. The three checkpoints would make sure they weren’t followed, knowingly or otherwise, and alert the others if there was danger as the former slaves passed by. If they were safe, they would be taken in. If they were unknowingly followed the problem would vanish and they would be taken in. If they alerted the guards or any of their masters, everyone who knew would vanish and the hidden passage would be sealed, a different one opened elsewhere. It was brutal, but they could not risk corruption and spies when their goals were so important and so delicate. The two women had been on Lyna’s list of potentials long enough, however, that she was reasonably confident that neither of them would say a word to anyone as they left.

Adhlea and Nehnisa left then, scrambling for what few possessions they had and fetching Adhlea’s sister. Thema and Lyna retreated to their rooms, where Lyna kicked over a small table with enough force to shatter it.

“Vhenan?” Thema murmured, unused to seeing Lyna’s temper.

“I will kill them all,” she whispered furiously, fighting tears and awful memories. Thema wrapped her arms around her and Lyna leaned into her embrace gratefully, but it could not cool her ire.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Thema suggested after a short time. “Let’s drop all the court bullshit and just go! Just for a while, just to escape for a moment.”

Lyna rubbed her face, though it was dry, then nodded. “I spotted some ruins while hunting a few weeks ago that I wanted to explore.”

“Then let’s go!” Thema urged, already tugging off her court finery.

“We promised to return for the closing ceremonies of the celebration,” Lyna reminded her.

“Fuck that!” Thema cried, and that was all it took. Lyna stripped out of her fine dress and began strapping on her armor, anticipating the thrill and wonder of new ruins to explore, new history to find.


	24. The Celebration of Millenia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3some AU, in Arlathan. Thema gets bored very quickly when it comes to grand events, stiff clothing and having to deal with the other Evanuris. She comes up with an idea that satisfies her boredom and stumbles upon something that will start to change everything.  
> Written by lehavashadowsun

It was BORING. Whatever this feast was being held for - the beginning of a new millennium - it was dull, packed and BORING. All of the Evanuris were in attendance, dressed to the nines, and their highest nobles and their families, along with those to be honored. It had already been three days of food, wine, and ceremonies granting awards, lands and what not to mages who went above and beyond, celebrating new discoveries and plentiful harvests, anything the last millennia had brought about.

The Hall was grand, the center point of Arlathan that she’d only been to a handful of times. It was huge, the ceiling so far above that clouds gathered against the painted glass. The walls were colored like pearl, color shifting and blossoming in waves across the surface, and the arches were filled in with Eluvians. Most of them connected to the Crossroads and the ones on the highest dais led directly to each King and Queen’s fortress, the keys to them embedded in their flesh. Pillars of obsidian, polished granite and dawn stone floated above a floor of rare onyx agate, the blue like the sky above. Statues, moving paintings of past memories and more filled the Hall.

She loathed it.

Thema was grinding her teeth, picking at the midnight blue embroidery on silver and black robes. There were layers upon layers, deceptively elaborate yet easy to remove, with a high collar, magic woven into the embroidery to dictate moving scenes of her greatest accomplishments. She hated it, hated it all, would rather be hunting.

Her lovers were seated at the table as well, one of many high above the rest of the proceedings. They were resplendent, beautiful in their robes, comfortable in them.

Solas wore forest green and autumn gold, black patterns speaking of his rise to Evanuris, wolves prowling through forests, the removal of Mythal’s vallaslin. His oak and auburn braids were decorated with gold bands and citrine beads, those around his face were pulled back into a bun, the rest flowing free around his shoulders and the vhenan'nahr were the only to rest against his chest, a proud display of their love. His ears were decorated too, golden filigree cuff protecting the sensitive tip of his ears and rings of amber in the flesh. The blackened jaw bone he’d been gifted at the beginning of these ceremonies by his lovers laid below the vhenan’nahr.

Lyna was no less radiant, midnight amethyst and white, golden thread telling the story of new magic created, new beasts that trod the earth, ruins discovered, and a new body for Ghilan'nain. Her own braids were kept back, woven into blooming flowers and a crown, the vhenan'nahr also the only braids left free. Her ears were just as decorated, a net of silverite and charoite laced around the points and down to the fleshier parts. Makeup and other jewelry adorned her as well and she looked every inch the Queen she was to be.

Studying them while they spoke about magic, whether it was plans for new spells or simply making fun of the other mages, she suddenly realized that she’d not touched them at all these past few days. When she had left to sleep they had to stay behind, both a bit too proper to duck out of such a prestigious event even to be by her side, and she wouldn’t want them to garner trouble anyway. Leaving the event for a few minutes, maybe an hour at the most was perfectly allowed but more than that was frowned upon. Elgar’nan took clear advantage of it, disappearing with a young slave every now and then to slake his lusts. The tension was building between him and Mythal, enough to entertain her for a while.

When it was only glares and pointed silence going on and not Jerry Springer levels of dysfunctional marriage her attention was back on her lovers.

Her fingers itched to touch now, to kiss them. She couldn’t do it because of shit that didn’t make sense, beaten into her head by both of them. Well, if she couldn’t touch them in front of others, she could improvise. The entire table was covered in cloth, pooling on the floor and in their laps. A slow smirk curled her lips as an idea came to mind, one that made her tingle and her sex grow wet. They wouldn’t know what hit them.

Slipping under the table was easy when attentions were elsewhere. When Fen’harel jerked at her touch on his thighs, only the press of their vhenan’nahr into his gripping hand caused him to relax. He started to lean back, possibly to look under the table, only to stop when her fingers pushed aside the layers of robes to pluck at the strings of his golden trews. She could hear him choke on his words as she fished him out, a kiss pressed into the spongy tip of his cock. The soft murmur of Lyna’s voice was heard through the wood and cloth, but Solas seemed to shrug it off. Well, now. He was growing firm in her grasp, veins pulsing under the surface with the speed of his heartbeat.

Thema pressed more kisses into the length of him, nibbling at the soft skin of his groin, scratching his thighs, until he was erect, filling her hand, the tip of him peeking out from its hood and wet with sweet dew drops. The slide of her lips over him was slow, soaking in the taste of him, the weight on her tongue, how he stretched her mouth to an almost ache. She was going to take her time, break him down piece by piece, and when she’d shattered him, she would do the same to Lyna. The heat between her own legs blossomed even more and she satisfied herself with a quick rub against her hand.

Her lover’s cock was treated to licks and sucks, kisses pressed into the moist skin, a slow worship. The heavy sac underneath was treated the same and she teased the sensitive skin behind them as her head bobbed over him, languid strokes of the tongue and hands against the bottom, pushing back the hood to suckle at the head. She knew what could get him off in mere minutes and only tormented him with just enough to keep him hanging on. How long she did that, she didn’t know, but her jaw was starting to hurt, his cock leaking steadily and twitching. When she finally took him into her throat, moaning blissfully around him, did he finally grasp her hair, making a wordless exclamation of his own.

“Fen’harel? Is everything alri- … Where’s Andruil?”

She giggled as best she could with her throat full of him and he bucked against her, the root of his cock giving a warning pulse against her tongue. Lyna must have figured it out from his gasp because she could hear the sound of laughter above her. Did she think she wasn’t going to get it? Thema pushed back against his hand, sucking hard as she did until his cock head fell from her lips with a dirty pop.

A fingertip stayed on the tip of his manhood, nail grazing lightly, making lazy circles in the precum until it was twitching, his thighs trembling as he gasped for breath. She wished she could see his face, see the torture on it, but that would ruin everything. Her other hand grasped Lyna’s ankle, squeezing hard until the mirth stopped and she started shaking as well. Thema could almost smell her arousal, mixing with the heady scent of Solas’.

The huntress smirked and returned to her task, nuzzling at the cock she held. She brushed it against her lips, taking him back in every few breaths to taste and tease. Every moan she made when his flavor burst on her tongue caused him to twitch and shake, the fingers in her braids gripping harder. When he held on too hard, tried to guide her, there was a warning in the touch of teeth and he backed off. Breaks were taken, pressing her cheek into his thigh, caressing his taut sac until he started to soften a little and then she started all over again.

He started begging with touches, his hand leaving her hair to stroke her cheek, desperate in his need. Magic rolled over her skin, pulling and tugging. A kiss was pressed into his belly and she finally let him tumble over. Just as his cum, hot and sweet, painted her lips she tugged on his sac and the thick strings were caught in her mouth. Thema moaned as she swallowed him down, taking everything he gave and sucking the remnants from him.

She laid her head on his thigh again, cradling his balls in her hand, the other stroking what skin was bare as he came down from his high. His hand cradled her head, fingers flexing. Even if she couldn’t see him, and he couldn’t see her, this moment in the aftermath was still sweet for them both.

He was tucked away with a final kiss and everything was put back into place. His hand also received a kiss to its palm before she crawled to Lyna.

Hands settled on shaking thighs, squeezing to let her know she was there. She slipped her hands under the robes, finding bare skin, and merely smoothed them back and forth until she calmed. A softer hand cupped her cheek and she nuzzled into it, nipping gently. It took some time for her lover must have really worked herself up watching Solas and anticipating her turn. When the shaking finally ceased she started to push aside the robes, her creamy scent filling her nose.

Softer brushes of sticky lips marked her way to the junction of Lyna’s legs, the bare touch of teeth to tease her. Fingers found the soaked wet cloth of her unders and she couldn’t help but growl, making her lover shake. They were pulled to the side as Thema pushed her legs apart to settle between them. Just as Solas’ swollen erection made her cunt pulse so did the site of Lyna’s wet sex.

Thema kissed her, pulling the slick and swollen flesh between her lips and sucking, teasing the seam with the tip of her tongue. The gentle flick of her tongue across the hard clit brought the kiss to an end. A hand slipped under her Queen, gripping her ass as she nuzzled into her cunt again, all gentle touches and sucking. In this she took her time, losing herself in the pattern of her tongue and how her lover tried not to dance against her face, little twitching trembles of her hips.

A finger was added at times, just the tip to tickle at the entrance, a fresh wave of slick coating her hand at the gesture, sometimes sinking deeper to stroke along that one spot as she suckled her clit. The squishy, squelching noise of arousal, the scent in her nose and the fluid streaking her cheeks had her dancing on the edge of her own orgasm. It was ignored in favor of using everything she knew about Lyna’s pleasure. Tongue fucking her until the motion of her hips grew agitated, backing off to let her cool down just to build her back up again just like she’d done to Solas. Even using her chin to rub against her sex as she sucked on the skin above it.  

The whip of her tongue grew more insistent, her fingers now truly fucking her as she raced to finish Lyna before she finished herself. She growled into her cunt, hummed, used any and every trick she could think of until her lovers’ juice filled her mouth. Thema moaned, drinking her down, licking her clean of everything she could get.

Her head pressed into the soft belly as her hands dug through her own robes, flicking her clit once, then twice before coming all over the floor.

The two women took their time recovering, spasms rocking both bodies. Robes were put back into order, soaked panties pulled off and left on the marble. Thema slunk back into her chair after cleaning her face off. She looked at her Queen, and found her red-faced and breathing hard. The scrolls that lay in front of her seemed to have her complete and utter attention, staring so hard that they might burst into flames.

One finger was tracing the edge of her lips to make sure she’d gotten everything, eyes scanning the Hall when she found Mythal staring.

At first, she thought she was staring at her but after following her gaze she found her staring at Solas. Every hair on her body immediately stood on end as she saw more in that golden gaze than first glance would show. There was lust in the Dragon Queen’s gaze, pupils dilated just enough, teeth in her painted bottom lip. It made her growl, the pleasure she’d felt from a job well done completely gone now. Thema glanced at her lover and he was unaware of the gaze upon him, leaned back in his chair, tension gone from his face though his skin was still ruddy from her torment and from what she’d done to Lyna.

Her eyes turned back to Mythal just in time to catch the look she was given. Unable to control herself her upper lip curled, hands clenching into fists. A clear warning that she had seen the look her Wolf had been given and she did not like it. Only protocol and being outnumbered kept her in her seat and not over there, punching the Queen in the face like Solas had the tavern drunk.

Mythal sneered, her own eyes flashing with hatred and rage.

They kept their gazes locked, a battle of willpower that Thema refused to lose. That Mythal would look upon the Dread Wolf like she did made her stomach turn, and if she ever touched him she would lose those hands of hers.

She won that battle when Elgar’nan finally stepped up to his wife’s side for the first time since they arrived, his features drawn with anger. They started arguing about something, magic sparking across their robes before the black-haired man dragged her from the Hall with a frown. Maybe he saw her staring at Solas, maybe they were off to perform marital duties, she didn’t know or care.

There were words to be had with Lyna when this bullshit was done with.


	25. Vicious Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Spirit of Truth reveals the true intentions of the Dragon Queen to Lyna and Thema.  
> Direct sequel to The Celebration of Millennia  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“So that was fun!” Thema said, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she threw her beautiful robes across the room. Lyna sighed fondly at her.

“You were fun, at least,” she soothed, but Thema merely grunted, something dark in her face that hadn’t existed until after she’d done her little disappearing act under the table. Lyna frowned as she shrugged out of her robes and tossed them carelessly aside. She went to her wardrobe and pulled out fresh panties, the ones she’d been wearing having been left under the table. Solas groaned as he watched her bare ass sway.

“What happened to your undergarments?” he asked her in a choked tone. Lyna glanced over her shoulder to see him staring between her bare ass and Thema’s, and laughed.

“They were wet!” she told him simply and he groaned again.

“Let’s go hunting,” Thema said suddenly, before anyone could form ideas about sex. “I need to get out of here and kill something.” Lyna glanced at her curiously.

“You often hunt alone, vhenan,” she reminded her lover, mind still on the way Solas had jerked and gasped and moaned beside her as Thema worked him under the table. She remembered the way she had captured his moan as he orgasmed with her lips and she wanted him.

“I don’t want to go alone right now,” Thema told her flatly. There was something in her eyes that told Lyna that this was more important than hunting, more important than her need to escape and revel in physical exertion.

“Alright, vhenan,” she said, and Solas sighed dejectedly. Lyna pulled on the thin cotton that would protect her skin from her armor and laughed at him.

“You always have you left hand, ma lath,” she told him teasingly. He rolled his eyes as he slipped into his usual tight trousers and loose tunic.

“My left hand isn’t nearly so creative,” he muttered as he threw himself down onto his desk chair. “And it will never surprise me.” Lyna dropped a kiss on his forehead as she plucked out her many earrings and the fine mesh nets she wore over them, dropping them into the dish on the front of her jewelry cabinet, which sorted the ornaments on its own with magic, hanging them all in their proper places. She plucked pins and combs and gems from her hair that followed the earrings into the dish, letting her hair fall around her shoulders, braids of duty in place but all other ornamentation removed. A few quick swipes with a spelled cloth removed the paint from her face, eyelids cleaned and lips back to their natural color. Finally, she was ready to put on her armor.

Thema was nearly finished by the time Lyna began strapping hers in place, having not worn half as much jewelry and left her hair mostly free. Lyna sometimes wished she would make more of an effort at these functions, but she knew it didn’t really matter; Andruil had never cared much for social functions so Thema’s lack of interest was fine.

“Work on those crystal enchantments while we’re gone, then,” Lyna told him. “You’re still having trouble getting the force/lightning balance just right. It’ll keep you occupied. Maybe you could find a way to hide more than a person, like perhaps a wagon or a mount.” Solas sighed and rolled his eyes again, but he did pick up one of the waiting crystals, gathered for this purpose.

Once Lyna was armed and armored, the two of them made their way to the eluvian and stepped through. Thema led Lyna across the paths, intent on her destination. She did not take them to their usual hunting grounds but instead took them to one of the first ruins they had discovered together, long since gone over by historians and scholars they’d directed to the site, everything of interest catalogued and saved. The area was abandoned once again, though it was now a recorded part of history. Lyna knew this wasn’t about hunting when Thema took her to one of the hidden rooms within the ruin, an ancient trigger opening an ancient door and then sealing seamlessly behind them.

Lyna lit a torch left in the wall, the Fade fire bathing the room in a blue-green glow. She faced Thema and put her hands on her hips, scowling. “What is this about?” she asked. “Why couldn’t we discuss it at home?”

Thema’s lips were pressed together tightly and she shook her head. “It’s about Mythal,” she said, and Lyna relaxed her posture. Neither of them liked the Dragon Queen much, but Solas still had difficulty seeing the flaws in her even after so much time free from her.

“What happened? What did you see?” Lyna asked, now concerned.

“She _wants_ him,” Thema told her, and Lyna scowled. “She saw what I was doing to you two and she was staring at him. I saw lust in her eyes, unmistakable.”

Lyna believed her. “Why, though?” she asked, honestly confused. “If she wanted him, she could have taken him when he was her slave or before he was ours. She has as little problem as Elgar’nan with taking other lovers, though she’s discreet about it and I don’t think he knows. Why didn’t she stake a claim when she had the chance?”

Thema shrugged. “I don’t know, but she was staring me down when I let her know that I saw. She challenged me. I won that time, but what if it happens again?”

“I don’t understand why she would do this,” Lyna said again, thinking over Mythal’s behavior for as long as she could remember. “He was her general, she lifted him up to become Evanuris. If she wanted him, why didn’t she take him?”

“Because he left,” a whispery voice answered. Thema and Lyna both stiffened before the spirit revealed itself. It was small, glowing a soft blue in the light of the Fade fire, and its voice reminded Lyna of a small child. “She would have but he left.”

“Who are you?” Lyna asked the spirit gently, not wanting to frighten it away when it seemed to have insight for them. It turned toward her, featureless but still giving the impression of attention.

“I am Truth,” it told her, voice high and thread and childlike. “I watch the Evanuris because you are so wrapped up in lies. I like to find the Truth of you.” Thema stiffened again, fear hiding behind fury, but the spirit turned to her. “I do not share what I find,” it assured her. “If I did, I would have no further opportunity to study the place you come from through your True Soul. You are both very fascinating and I owe my loyalty only to what I am. So I will tell no one because I do not need to.”

“Thank you, Truth,” Lyna told the spirit honestly. It bobbed at her, like a nod. Thema sidled away slightly. “Do you know why Mythal is acting as she is? Will you share it with us?” It bobbed again.

“I do not like the Dragon Queen,” it admitted. “She has so many lies wrapped around her that her Truth is warped. Some of the lies she’s told for centuries she even believes now. I like Elgar’nan even less, but that is part of the problem. She wants to leave him.”

“Mythal wants to divorce Elgar’nan?” Thema repeated, stunned. Lyna felt her jaw drop.

“I knew they were unhappy, but they have always seemed content to stay as they are,” she murmured.

“Only Elgar’nan is content with these lies and unhappiness,” Truth told them. “He likes it when she hurts, even though her pain hurts him, too. He likes to be nasty to her and he likes it when she’s nasty back. He likes to hurt in bad ways, but the reason why is wrapped in so many layers of intertwining lies that I cannot see the Truth.” It turned its attention to Thema, who stifled a flinch. “You like to hurt sometimes, too. You like to fight and claw and bite, but it is different. You like it because there’s trust and thrill and it isn’t real. It’s release but a different kind and it’s safe.” It turned its attention to Lyna next. “You like to be small when the world is too big. You like to be restrained and told what to do and how to do it. But you like it because you trust them, because you know they will never hurt you in ways that you do not ask for. It’s release but a different kind and it’s safe.” The spirit trembled slightly, its attention far away. “Elgar’nan and Mythal are not safe.”

“So Mythal wants to leave,” Thema said. “Why doesn’t she just tell him to fuck off?”

Truth returned its attention to her. “You have been here long enough to know that scandal can be deadly, Otherworlder,” it said. “If she left without giving cause, he could make her an enemy, even turn the others against her. She would be destroyed. He is vindictive enough to do so and she knows this. She needed a reason.”

“She… She lifted Solas up so she could leave Elgar’nan for him?” Lyna asked, horrified as she caught the point of what Truth was trying to say.

Truth bobbed another nod. “When she found him she knew he would be good. He was hers already and she saw his potential. He would be sweet to her. But he was only a slave and she couldn’t leave for a slave. So she observed his strengths and placed him in her army. She knew she only had to wait. And he did well, became a general, and she was able to dote on him. She gave him anything she was allowed to give a slave, showered him in affection. She was trying to make him hers. But she wanted it all to seem as real as possible so she did not force him into her bed.”

“If she asked, he’d have been forced to obey as her slave,” Lyna murmured, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering from memories trying to surface. She shoved her own trauma away and attempted to focus on the issue at hand. Truth gazed at her and she got the distinct feeling that it mourned for her pain.

“Yes,” it confirmed after a moment. “But if she was to seem as though she truly loved him she would need him to choose her because he wanted to. So she tried to make him love her. But she got impatient, didn’t wait long enough. He did so well as her general that she raised him up before he loved her. She thought he did, thought he would be hers as soon as his position was secured. But he didn’t and he wasn’t. He took the power and then he left her. She thought he would come back. She thought he just needed to stretch and get used to having power. But she was lying to herself. The Truth was that he never loved her. He respected her and he cared for her, but he never loved her. Her plan was doomed to fail from the beginning because she was right about him. He is sweet and kind and he is good to his lovers. And she is nothing that he needs.”

“She manipulated him?” Lyna asked, feeling sick. Truth bobbed.

“She didn’t care if he actually loved her,” it confirmed. “She only wanted it to seem that way. She wanted to be able to stand beside him and declare her love for him and his for her. And then she could annul her marriage and all the scandal would fall on Elgar’nan, the jilted former husband left for a better man.”

“It’s all a _game_ to her?” Thema shrieked, enraged.

“But you said that she was jealous,” Lyna said to Thema. “If she doesn’t really care, why would she be jealous?”

“She wants him in her bed,” Truth told them. “That doesn’t mean she cares for him. She feels slighted, like you two stole him from her even though the Truth is that he chose you. He chose you and she can’t stand that. She finds him attractive and wants him, but it is not care, it is not love. She is angry.”

“I’ll kill her!” Thema cried, but Lyna held her steady by the shoulders.

“You can’t!” she reminded her. “Solas won’t believe it, you know he won’t!”

“But Truth-“

“He won’t listen to me,” Truth told them. “He still thinks she cares for him. He thinks she’s his ally. He won’t listen.”

Thema stopped and glared at the ground. “How do we get rid of her?”

Lyna shook her head. “We know her game. We know what she’s done. It will be enough for us to keep her off him and prevent the worst of her plots from coming to fruition.”

“But what she’s done is monstrous!” Thema cried. “We can’t just let her-“

“We’re not _letting_ her do anything, Thema!” Lyna replied, shaking her lover. “Think it through! If we got rid of Mythal, what would happen? Her lands would fall to Elgar’nan, her slaves become his. We would be subjecting all her people to _his_ rule. She is an awful person but she’s better to her people than Elgar’nan. And she keeps him in check! If he were not so distracted by the problems between them, if he could focus only on his love of inflicting pain, what would happen to us all? You think he would stop at hurting slaves? You think that would satisfy him if he were not distracted by Mythal, by being able to hurt her and feel her pain through their marriage? Think it through!”

“You could use it,” Truth piped up after the silence had stretched out into discomfort. Both women looked at the spirit. “You know that she wants Solas and you know that she wants to get away from Elgar’nan. You can use that to further your goals.”

“You know our goals?” Lyna asked it.

“I am Truth,” it reminded them. “I see your Truth and I see that you are kind and you want to free the People. You already freed your courtesans and they are in the best care you can provide. You are both so good to your people. You expanded their living quarters, even! All the spirits talk about it, about how you two are so different. We know you are not the power you wield, that Andruil and Ghilan’nain are dead. But we won’t tell! You are kind to us and to what we are. This suits us.”

“When it is time, will you help us?” Lyna asked.

“Some will,” Truth replied. “Some owe allegiances that forbid it. Some have natures that defy it. But none will give you away. We would rather be destroyed, when the time comes.”

“When the time comes,” Lyna echoed softly, suddenly feeling the weight of what they were planning, the realities of what was to come.

“We can do this,” Thema reminded Lyna, and she looked up with a smile and nodded.

“There are ways to win,” Truth told them. “And there are ways to fail. It is not certain. There is no Truth yet for me to see. But I know that you will try and you will everything you can. And if you use Mythal, convince her that you can free her from Elgar’nan, then she will help you if she is managed carefully.”

“I hate her,” Thema said. “I don’t trust her.”

“We don’t need to trust her,” Lyna told her. “We only need to use her. She has power and resources that we can use. As long as she believes that she will come out on top, she will commit to it.”

“Yes,” Truth said. “You know what I am and you know my purpose. In Truth, I wish you well.” And then it vanished as it completed its parting ritual.

“He won’t believe us,” Thema lamented with a scowl.

“No, but we can do this,” Lyna replied. “He is our heart and he will see the Truth when it is time.”

“Yeah,” Thema answered, but she sounded sad.


	26. Tamed Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thema and Lyna show off their Wolf, collared and marked. A game, but also a point to prove to one in particular who does not seem to know her place.  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“We’re going to show you off,” Thema announced, and Lyna watched Solas’s shocked expression turn to playful dismay. She could almost hear his stomach dropping. When Lyna held out collar, a leather choker that could only barely be passed off as jewelry, his eyes darkened with desire. He could only nod, his mouth still gagged.

It took a lot of time to get them all ready. Solas was dressed lovingly by Lyna and Thema together while they weren’t wearing a single stitch, the women working to gently prepare him as they wanted. The weather was hot and sunny and they planned to visit a large garden that was considered neutral territory between the Evanuris. Each king and queen held their own section along the edge, belonging only to them, but the middle was neutral and perfect for meetings that did not require complete privacy. It was also perfect for showing off conquests of various sorts, as the lovers planned to do. They dressed Solas in an open vest of light green, the tail reaching his knees. It showed off his arms, crossed with welts and the marks of fingernails and even a few bites deep in the muscle. His chest was left bare as well, the marks of teeth clear on his pecs, welts and nail marks all across his belly, more bites and bruises from fingers obvious on his hips. Low-slung trousers of ruddy gold began just barely above his groin, showing off the twin trails of nails leading down to his manhood. The trousers were tight, ended at his calves, and he wore foot wraps that ended just over his ankles. Even his strong legs were not unmarked, nails and finger-shaped bruises and welts covering them, too. The fabric had dark embroidery swirling across it in delicate loops. He wore no ornamentation other than the collar and shining jewels in his vhenan’nahr. Lyna pulled back all his other braids and bound them to the back of his head, letting his bruised neck and the collar be seen. They had tamed their wolf and he wore only their claims as ornamentation.

Thema and Lyna wore nearly as little, their robes loose around their legs. A slit up Lyna’s left leg all the way to her hip showed off a few finger-shaped bruises and bites and the marks of fingernails. The filmy white material flowed easily around her legs, revealing as much as it covered. The bodice was tight and left her arms bare, showing off her strong and feminine figure, and the scooped neckline revealed much of the tops of her breasts, painted in bruises from teeth and mouths. She wore a necklace of woven silverite threads scattered with amethysts like a collar, her hair bound back except for her vhenan’nahr.

Thema’s dress was similar, a slit up her right leg to the hip showing off just as many marks as Lyna’s. The material was light blue, her woven silverite collar scattered with sapphires. The scooped neck of the gown showed off her bites and the swell of her breasts. The swirling silver embroidery was a mirror of Lyna’s like the slit up the skirt, a compliment to Solas’s.

At last they were ready, their wolf on display, and they journeyed to the garden to play their game. This would be fun, as much for the benefit of a certain hated ally as for their own enjoyment. The day was indeed quite warm, the sun beating down on the plants around them, fragrant flowers soaking it up. They strolled together, the three of them, Lyna and Thema arm in arm as Solas trailed just behind with his hands clasped behind his back. Everyone they passed did a double take and then openly stared, and each stare straightened Solas’s shoulders and excited Lyna as Thema shivered beside her. They toured the neutral area of the gardens twice, though they both disliked the way Falon’din looked like might devour Solas the moment he saw them. Finally, when they had been seen by everyone in the neutral area and failed to locate Mythal, they retreated to Solas’s territory, at the edge of Mythal’s, and found a bench just a little too close for comfort to the marking of Mythal’s domain of the garden. But that was the point; they wanted to be found.

Lyna and Thema draped themselves beside Solas, leaning against him as they rested. Lyna had her legs crossed, allowing the slit in her skirt to reveal most of her toned and bruised legs. Thema had left bites and scratches all over her thighs and at some point even Solas had managed to leave a few. Though still, their wolf was done up in war paint all over his body, only his face free of marks, though his lips were swollen and bruised still. Lyna and Thema mostly had marks on their thighs, but there were plenty of them.

“Do you enjoy being shown off, ma lath?” Lyna asked as she traced a few welts on Solas’s arm.

“You know that I do,” he said with a smile. He was sitting straight and proud, all but glowing with the pleasure of having his devotion seen.

“But do we know it?” Thema asked, also tracing marks on his body.

“I would have them all see that I belong to you,” Solas declared, and his words shivered through Lyna. “I would declare my devotion for all to hear. I have been claimed, body and soul, and I belong to the two of you.” Thema all but purred and Lyna pressed kisses against his marked skin in response.

“What are you doing?” came a shrill voice from within the garden. Lyna and Thema shared a pleased look before turning to find Mythal standing not ten feet away and glaring with venom.

“Just having a bit of fun,” Thema told her, leaning her head on Solas’s shoulder.

Mythal gestured at the three of them with a flick of her fingers. “You bring this display of… excess into _my_ territory?” she spat, eyes flashing.

“We are not in your territory,” Lyna informed her calmly. “We are in Solas’s territory.” Mythal opened her mouth to debate the point, but Lyna nodded at the short border fence nearby. “That’s your territory.” Then she smiled sweetly up at Mythal. None of them had bothered to rise from the bench as protocol would usually demand. Mythal had begun the confrontation and their choice to remain seated was a subtle insult, a way to tell her that she was not worth the respect of standing to bow.

“This lewd display is an insult to us all,” Mythal snarled at them. Lyna noticed that she kept her gaze carefully averted from Solas and all his many marks, so she shifted to draw the queen’s attention to the marks on her thighs. Mythal’s lips thinned even further, a small sort of victory.

At the edges of her vision, Lyna noticed some of the others gathering nearby, summoned by the unusual noise of Mythal’s initial screeching. Elgar’nan was glaring with open hatred at Mythal, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. Falon’din and Dirthamen were leaning against each other, looking remarkably entertained. Even Sylaise and June were present, though Sylaise wore a mask of polite disinterest and June looked bored and sour. Nobles of each monarch hovered behind them, all of them remaining carefully in the neutral area of the garden though the other Evanuris dared a step into Solas’s territory. Whispers passed behind painted fans, amusement in the eyes that flickered across the three on the bench and wariness in those that gazed at the offended Dragon Queen, but the other Evanuris remained silent.

“You’re the one trespassing, Mythal,” Thema informed her, gazing at the woman’s feet. Mythal was only three steps outside her territory, but it was enough to warrant the jibe since they had already been falsely accused.

“You insult us all with this game of yours and yet have the nerve to accuse me?” Mythal hissed. She seemed completely oblivious to their audience.

“Falon’din didn’t seem to mind,” Lyna observed, winking at the man in question. He straightened with a sly grin and devoured her with his gaze. It made her skin crawl and she’d rather have clawed his eyes from his face, but it achieved the intended result. Their gathered audience tittered and laughed, knowing well that Falon’din was more than passingly interested in the affairs of the three lovers. It also drew Mythal’s attention to the crowd and humiliated her as she saw that she was viewed as the offending party in this confrontation.

“In any case, nothing we are currently doing has exceeded the bounds of propriety,” Lyna continued, her eyes back on Mythal. “We are all sufficiently clothed, and we have engaged in no inappropriate behavior in the gardens.”

“Pity,” Falon’din muttered and Dirthamen snickered. Lyna gave them a smile before returning her attention to Mythal.

“Indeed, we have simply come to take a walk,” Lyna continued while Thema stroked her fingers over Solas’s chest. Their tamed wolf sat as he had been, with his back straight and proud, but he looked at Mythal with confusion as she avoided looking at him at all. “Have the laws changed regarding a simple walk through the gardens since we visited last week?”

“They did not trespass and they have done nothing rude,” Dirthamen observed mildly, his eyes on Thema’s revealed legs. “Let them be, for they have done nothing wrong.”

Elgar’nan took this opportunity to stalk to his wife and grip her arm strongly. “I suggest you end this farce before you disgrace yourself,” he hissed aggressively into her ear, louder than he had perhaps intended. Lyna watched, lazily stroking her hand up and down Solas’s thigh. She was aware of Falon’din’s gaze on her movements but she ignored him.

Mythal opened her mouth to make some retort, but Elgar’nan jerked her in his grasp and dragged her back into her own territory. She fought against him but his grip remained strong and she was towed away. The show ended, the nobles dispersed, followed quickly by Sylaise and June, off to return to their own territory. Falon’din and Dirthamen lingered for a few moments, watching the display, before Dirthamen tugged at Falon’din and they both wandered away as well, leaving the three of them alone once more.

“What was all that?” Solas asked them curiously, frowning in confusion.

“Just proving a point,” Lyna sighed happily, leaning on his shoulder. Thema hummed her contentment as well. It had gone even better than they could have hoped, ending with Mythal in social disgrace. Though the scandal wouldn’t last long, it was enough to get their point across; she had lost and Solas belonged to them. He would never be what she wanted him to be.

“This was fun,” Thema observed as they made their way back home some time later. “We should do it again sometime.”

Lyna looked at Solas and all the marks painted on his body in the throes of passion. “We should,” she agreed, her voice darker than she’d intended. Solas shivered as his tight trousers tented in front.


	27. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Evanuris finally push too far and force Thema and Lyna to leave them and Arlathan behind and return to Solas’s side. They cannot maintain the ruse. Mythal chooses to remainn behind, despite the consequences, and Thema hunts in the Void for a way to defeat the Evanuris. But the Void is taking its toll on her…  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

“Thema. Look,” Lyna said as the pair of them returned to their rooms after yet another party. This one had been for a victory of Falon’din’s over Fen’Harel. It was a tiny victory because the Evanuris were losing the war, merely a successful raid. They were running out of reasons to celebrate and trying harder to come up with reasons to maintain their customary lavish lifestyle. Falon’din had been as puffed up and self-important as ever and Lyna had a hard time keeping Thema from punching him.

A falcon sat on the windowsill. Thema’s eyes gleamed red briefly until the falcon jumped from its perch and landed as a woman on the floor, one they recognized. Thema calmed and Lyna dispelled the magic she’d gathered in her hands.

“Fen’ghilan?” Lyna asked with a frown. “It must be important. What happened?”

“He has made a mistake,” she said, avoiding names just in case. Her dark skin was pale with fright and exertion, chest heaving from how fast she’d flown. “He went to the two recluses to see if they might join him. He was gentle, careful in his prodding. They reacted against all prediction. The messenger was slaughtered. Two hundred slaves are now dead as their response. He fears for you both.” Lyna and Thema looked at each other, eyes wide in surprise and just a little fear.

“We have to go,” Thema declared, hands fisting at her sides.

Lyna shook her head. “We have to wait,” she replied. “If we can weather this storm as we have with others, we may yet do more good.” She looked at Fen’ghilan. “If you would, I would ask that you visit each of our agents in Arlathan. Tell them that we may be forced to depart and openly declare for him, but we will endeavor not to. Have them ready.” Fen’ghilan nodded and took flight back out the window.

“What are you doing?” Thema asked fiercely, grabbing Lyna’s arm. Lyna examined the threads of red in Thema’s eyes and wondered again what would make her heart stop hunting in the Void for a way to remove the other Evanuris. Yet her hunt had only just begun. “We can’t stay if the others start killing slaves. You know they’ll demand that we kill ours as well.”

“I know that,” Lyna said. “But they have not said anything. Sylaise and June were not at the banquet. Now we know why. This may be nothing. They may not even say anything to the rest of us. We cannot abandon this position on a threat of ‘maybe.’ We need to stay where we are for as long as we can. You know we can do the most good from where we are.”

“But if our people are in danger-“ Thema continued, but Lyna cut her off.

“We don’t know that yet. We don’t know anything yet.” She cupped Thema’s face in her hands and kissed her gently, then watched the red recede. “We can only wait for now.”

They did not wait long. Sylaise and June called a gathering less than a week later. Lyna and Thema held on to each other as they entered the vast meeting hall that held only the other Evanuris. Lyna kept herself composed, but only barely. She felt brittle, like she might shatter at any moment. Beside her, Thema seethed, the poisoned red threading her eyes and sparking her temper too easily. Lyna worried that she could not control her lover anymore.

“Friends, kin,” Sylaise said as soon as the door shut behind them, “we have news.”

“A slave without Vallaslin was sent to me,” June continued.

“And another to me,” Sylaise added.

“They asked us to join Fen’Harel and free our slaves,” June said bluntly. Lyna had to remind herself to gasp and murmur in shock. She turned to Thema with wide eyes and found them just a touch more tainted by the red. “They tried to make us turn on you, our kin, and join the traitor we have all fought against.”

Elgar’nan slammed a fist down on the table. “This cannot stand!” he cried. Mythal clenched her jaw beside him.

“We agree,” Sylaise said. “That is why we slaughtered the messengers and a hundred of our slaves each in response. They are our property to do with as we choose. We chose to send a message with their blood. We urge you all to do the same. Show this Dread Wolf that we still know our places and so do our slaves. They are property. Destroy them.”

“Slaves are valuable, Sylaise,” Lyna demurred. “You wish us to slaughter so many merely to send a message?”

“Do you care for your slaves, Ghilan’nain?” Elgar’nan sneered at her. “Are you still Fen’Harel’s whore?” Lyna glared down her nose at him and held Thema in her seat with a tight grip.

“No more than you care for yours, Elgar’nan,” she replied coldly. “Or am I mistaking lust for care?” Mythal seethed at his side and Elgar’nan lifted his lip at her. She turned her attention to the others. “We are not all blessed with a surplus of slaves, friends,” she continued. “Yet you would ask us all to slaughter a hundred of them?”

“You have a hundred to spare,” Dirthamen said lazily, waving a hand through the air dismissively. “Use their blood for power and then they will not go to waste.”

“You mistake my meaning,” Lyna told him. “I have need of my slaves while they live. I have harvests to collect and beasts to hunt. My people need the labor of their slaves and if I slaughter a hundred of my own I will need to take as many from my nobles to replace them.”

“They are your people,” Falon’din said tightly. “They will do as you say. Or they will die. It is as simple as that. If they are unwilling to serve their gods they deserve no less.”

“We are in agreement, then?” June asked, scanning the others before him. “A hundred slaves each to send this rebel a message?”

Lyna caught Mythal’s eyes across the table, challenging her silently. She had been little use to them thus far, merely passing a few tidbits of information just frequently enough to remain on Solas’s good side, giving up a slave here and there. Mythal’s jaw tightened and she shook her head subtly. Lyna struggled against her temper, which suddenly demanded the Dragon Queen’s blood.

The others agreed to June and Sylaise’s proposal. Lyna nodded assent, lying through her teeth. But she knew better than to tell them that Ghilan’nain and Andruil would not be slaughtering slaves for any reason. The two of them would never leave the room alive, much less gather their people and run to their lover. The meeting dispersed and Lyna struggled to remain calm. But she was screaming inside, terrified for the people they would be forced to leave behind as their spies.

Word was sent through the secret routes, and everyone who would be leaving would disappear before dawn. Lyna and Thema packed away their rooms and everything in them, giving their jewels and frivolities to freed slaves to sell for coin or trade for food to keep the sudden influx of new additions to Fen’Harel’s armies from being too much of a burden. Of their own possessions, they each kept only a few sentimental favorites, their weapons and armor, and basic clothing. All their fancy silk robes and dresses would be taken apart and then sold. All the ostentatious jewelry and ornaments would be melted down and sold as raw materials. Nothing would be recognizable as belonging to the two missing goddesses.

Lyna and Thema, clad in their armor with their bows at the ready, traveled one of their hundreds of hidden passages. All would be closed by morning, only a few new ones opened here and there in new locations to keep information and escapees flowing. Andruil’s and Ghilan’nain’s lands were emptying, over sixty percent of their slaves joining the rebel cause. A significant number of commoners were joining as well, many bringing their entire harvests with them. Several nobles were remaining behind to continue to act as double agents and send what coin and resources they could. This plan had been in place from the very beginning, before Solas openly declared his rebellion and left Arlathan. They’d made this plan as they built their fortress, their hidden retreat in the mountains. Everyone knew what they were to do should the two goddesses be forced to leave court and the plan was enacted easily, flawlessly. Everyone had known it would one day come to this, despite holding out hope that the rebellion could be ended without Andruil and Ghilan’nain going into hiding with their lover. But it was too late for regrets and there was nothing to be done about it except enact the plan.

If they had been traveling a direct route, it would have taken perhaps an hour to reach Terasyl’an Tel’as, but they were following hidden ways and paths between worlds, always checking to make sure they were not followed. They traveled by foot between two cities instead of taking eluvians for one leg of the journey. For another, they traveled a shadowy realm too close for comfort to the Void, making Thema agitated and restless, but they did not take an eluvian to reach it and traveled instead through portals punched through the fabric of reality.

It took two days during which they could not stop to let Thema sleep, but finally they arrived at the gates of Terasyl’an Tel’as. The massive iron portcullis, engraved with countless runes and protections, opened for them almost soundlessly. As they entered, they felt wards and magicks catch on their skin, assessing them for threats before letting them pass. From the main keep, Solas descended at a run and both women ran to him. Freed slaves and all the many people gathered in the courtyard parted for the three of them and it was only moments before they were all wrapped in each other’s arms, weapons dropped to the ground.

Lyna wrapped a hand around the back of Solas’s neck, still startled by the feeling of his smooth, bald head. She missed the heavy weight of his braids, especially the two under his left ear, but she understood the necessity. Still, he was their Solas, pink lips soft on theirs as they all kissed desperately, the sharp lines of jaw the same under her grasping fingers, storm blue eyes intense even as they watered.

“Are you alright?” he asked them after long moments of desperately clinging to each other. “You are not hurt?”

“We’re not hurt,” Lyna told him, resting her head on his shoulder and smiling as he kissed her brow before having his lips claimed by Thema’s. “The plan is in motion, passages being sealed as we speak. The last of those coming here will arrive by moonrise. Thema needs rest; we’ve been traveling for two days without stop.”

“Of course,” Solas said, pulling away despite Thema’s plaintive whine. He cupped each of their faces in one hand and smiled at them. “It is so good to have you back,” he told them. “I know that you could do more where you were, but I cannot help but be grateful that you can stay with me now.”

Lyna leaned into his touch with a smile. “It is a loss for our cause but a personal gain,” she agreed. “It is difficult to be upset about being forced to leave Arlathan, though I am furious at the deaths that spurred our retreat.” Solas’s face fell and his jaw tensed.

“I miscalculated,” he admitted softly, then looked around at their audience of former slaves and veteran warriors, many of whom still wore Vallaslin. “Not here,” he whispered. “Come up to our rooms.” The women gathered their fallen weapons and followed him into the keep. Lyna smiled and nodded greetings at anyone who looked at her, though Thema mostly kept her reddened gaze focused on Solas. Lyna knew it was harder for her to control when she was tired or stressed and she could only hope that her lover wouldn’t do anything stupid.

At the top of the tallest tower of Terasyl’an Tel’as was the room that Solas had been staying in that they would all three now live in. The bed was suitably large despite having held only Solas for centuries. Lyna placed her bow on a weapon rack that seemed meant for her weapons. She stripped out of her armor, carefully placing it on the rack meant for it as Thema did the same. Even though she had not been to Terasyl’an Tel’as since it was still being built, before the rebellion had truly begun, she still remembered its layout. In their private rooms were the bedroom, a bathroom, a study, and a training room that could double as a dance studio. The castle was large enough to house twice the number of people that it ever should with the extra rooms used for storage. Each tower along the outer wall was equipped with something she and Solas had spent centuries developing. The towers were made of crystal instead of the same sturdy stone as the walls, and the crystal towers were enchanted to make the entire fortress disappear with a touch of magic. It had begun as a curiosity, a project undertaken out of boredom to see if they could make a person disappear. Its success and the knowledge that they may eventually need to hide thousands of people had driven them to study it more fully until they could hide a wagon of goods and eventually their entire fortress. It was the most difficult spell they had ever developed to hide such a large area from sight long enough to make a difference. At full spell power, Terasyl’an Tel’as could vanish for two weeks using only the power in the crystal towers. If Lyna and Solas and others who had sufficient magical power could feed more energy into the spell, it could last as long as they did. It was their final defense before a siege on the castle and they hoped to never need to use it. Lyna knew she needed to check their defenses and make sure everything was functioning properly, but first she needed time with her lovers, a reunion for whatever it was worth.

Once Lyna and Thema were stripped down to their cotton underclothes and their belongings had been put away, they turned to Solas. He reached for them and ran his fingers over his vhenan’nahr, still in their hair even after so long apart. He held the braids silently for long moments, then fell to his knees before them.

“It has been nearly a century since the three of us stood in the same room,” he whispered, voice suspiciously thick as he looked up at them.

“Eighty-seven years, eleven months, and twenty-three days,” Thema said promptly, her gaze burning red alarmingly.

“I am so sorry,” Solas whispered. Lyna dropped to her knees with him and drew him into her arms.

“We all did what we could,” she reminded him. “And we are together now. That’s what matters. Come to bed and we shall all rest together. Thema needs to sleep.” Lyna glanced up at Thema fearfully, the red madness making her nervous; it was spreading the longer she spent in the Void. She hoped to enlist Solas’s help convincing her to stay away from that cursed place.

Solas nodded and they both stood. “Where is Mythal?” he asked as he moved toward the bed. Lyna felt the world slow as she turned to Thema, knowing what would come and not knowing how to stop it.

“She has betrayed us,” Thema spat, her gaze burning brighter. Solas turned to her, eyes wide with shock.

“She is not coming,” Lyna told him. “She will slaughter a hundred of her slaves and she will remain in Arlathan. She has chosen to stay with the Evanuris.”

“She will slaughter her slaves like the others?” Solas asked, looking disgusted and slightly sick. Lyna wondered for a moment if they finally had a chance to convince him of Mythal’s true intentions before a knock on the door interrupted them. In a daze, Solas answered it and took the sealed message from the runner. He returned to them and opened the message.

“It is from Mythal,” he told them, suddenly more alert as he read the missive quickly. “She writes of her regret for not joining us. She says she believes that she can be of the most use to us if she remains. She sent a hundred slaves with this message and hates the necessity that she must kill a hundred more to maintain her rouse with the others. She will kill only those who volunteer their lives for our cause.” He looked up at the pair of them again and Lyna saw in his eyes that he believed her. She felt her heart sink again.

“Give me that!” Thema snapped, snatching the missive. Solas looked at her in surprise but didn’t protest. Thema scanned the note quickly, then her face twisted in disgust. “She’s lying! She can say what she likes, but she’s still willing to kill a hundred slaves to keep her pride!”

“Volunteers only, those who know why they are sacrificing,” Solas argued. Lyna felt nauseous as she saw the depth of his belief in a woman who would have him sitting at her feet like a trained dog.

“As if they truly have a choice!” Thema raged, balling up the paper she held and throwing it in the hearth to be consumed by fire. “They are slaves and they will do as they are bid because she has not taught them better!”

“She sent a hundred others, Thema!” Solas snapped, glaring at her. “She has been passing information and helped those who wish to flee. She remains loyal to our cause!”

“You wouldn’t know loyalty if it slapped you across the face!” Thema sneered at him, stalking across the room to glare at him. “That woman has been manipulating you for centuries! But why should you believe me? I’m only your lover! I’ve only been yours for a few millennia! Why should you listen to me above _her?”_ Thema spat. She raised her hand to strike him, but Lyna grabbed both her arms and pinned them behind her back.

“That’s enough!” she cried as Thema struggled in her grasp. “Thema, my heart, you need rest. You have been awake for too long and you are not thinking straight.” She finally allowed Thema to yank herself out of her confining grip. She bit back a cry as she saw that Thema’s eyes were fully red, darkness spreading out to her face. She looked crazed and Lyna worried that she could no longer reach her lover. “Come to bed,” she urged anyway, fear gripping her chest tightly.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Thema spat. She stalked back to her armor and began to strap it in place.

“Thema, no!” Lyna cried, knowing where this would lead. “Don’t go back there, _please!_ For me. Stay.”

“I need to hunt,” Thema growled as she strapped on her armor with the ease of long practice. “I need to find a way to subdue them and maybe convince _him_ of her deceit! I have to go back.”

“Not there! Please, Thema!” Lyna cried, grabbing hold of her arm. Thema shook her off with surprising strength and sent Lyna stumbling back into the wall hard enough to hit her head.

“Lyna!” Solas cried, rushing to her. She was dizzy, her head pounding from the force with which she’d hit the wall. But she pushed Solas away and went back to Thema, who had not even glanced in her direction.

“Every time you hunt in the Void you come back worse than before!” Lyna pleaded. She was met only with stony silence. Lyna considered restraining her lover but nothing would hold Thema now; she’d waited too long and the madness made her strong. She could only watch helplessly as Thema left.

“What just happened?” Solas asked, sounding lost. Lyna rounded on him, furious.

“She is going back to the Void because you will not listen!” she cried. “She has been awake for two days and I do not know what she will find there but I am afraid for her! Every time she comes back, the madness has spread! I cannot control her anymore! And you just… You have no faith in her! You have driven her back there! If she is lost to us…” Lyna choked on a sob and covered her face with her hands.

Solas wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed, and even with how furious she was she could not convince herself to give up the comfort he offered, touch she had been without for far too long. She leaned into his chest and finally allowed herself to sob in fear for Thema, hot tears and hiccupping sobs wracking her body. “We will find a way to help her,” Solas said softly after a time. Lyna pulled back from him, wiping her face.

“That isn’t even the worst of it,” she told him, voice choked with tears. “You have such undying faith in Mythal but that faith does not extend to us. Why is she worth so much to you, Solas? Why do you believe her every word even when we attempt to show you the lies hidden there? Would you leave us for her, if she asked it of you?”

“No!” he cried, seeming shocked. “Never! You are my heart! _Both_ of you! But Mythal… She is our ally! I will not turn her away because Thema dislikes her.”

Lyna shook her head sadly at him, then turned away and curled up on the bed. She needed rest after their long journey before she went to inspect their fortifications. “You will never believe us,” she lamented in a whisper, hot tears falling down her face once more. “Thema will be lost if we do not find a way to save her, but everything will be lost if Mythal betrays us.”


	28. Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Andruil began stalking the Forgotten Ones in the Void, she suffered longer and longer periods of madness after returning. She put on armor made of the Void, and all forgot her true face. She made weapons of darkness, and plague ate her lands. She howled things meant to be forgotten until Mythal turned into a great serpent and sapped Andruil’s strength with her magic, stealing her knowledge of how to find the Void. Andruil couldn’t get back to the abyss ever since, and peace returned.

Words spoken weighed in the air now, leaving a bitter taste in the air. Everyone could feel the power of intent from the argument, and Fen'harels forces seemed subdued not only from that but from the sight of a corrupted Goddess stalking through the grounds. Tension sank over the Hold, and those that wore Andruils’ vallaslin no longer wanted it on their face. They came before Fen’harel, begging for it to be removed, and with little recourse to soothe their fears he did so with the aid of Fen’ghilan. Everything seemed to settle for a bit after that, the former slaves relieved to no longer be tied to a madwoman.

Time passed too quickly and the gears of the Rebellion continued to churn. Three cycles of the moon passed with no word from their lover, no sighting reported from the scouts. Andruils’ nobles, those who had stayed behind, consumed into the lands of Sylaise, knew nothing about her whereabouts or whether she even lived.

Solas and Lyna continued to lead together, trying to maintain appearances outside of their bedroom, yet within it they were breaking. Long spans of silence, conversations started then halted when desperation and tempers grew. The absence of their lover was taking a toll on both of them, the words said still ringing through their minds. Tensions grew between them, as well, tempers short and words left unsaid.

They left Terasyl’an Tel’as for one of the Temples dedicated to Fen’harel, now a secondary hiding spot for rescued slaves. Fen’ghilan discussed with them the latest foray into Falon’din’s lands, the torments he was heaping upon the slaves there and how he believed their agony in life would only fuel his power in death. They needed to save them, try to breathe life back into their flesh and if they could not save them, let them die knowing they were free. On this matter, Fen’harel and Ghilan’nain could agree.

A scout pushed open the doors of the meeting room with a loud bang, sweat streaming her face and thick in her hair, chest heaving with every gasp of air. “Fen-Fen’harel, my lord, you, I,” A deep breath was sucked in and she tried to stand straight, brown eyes wild. “The-The Lady Andruil, she has been seen!”

The air in the room seemed to turn cold as the words sank in. “She, she battled with Mythal two nights ago in mountains to the North and then disappeared! They were both wounded, Mythal most grievously. We believe she is coming here!”

Another voice rang out behind her, belonging to another scout. His eyes were wide, pupils pinpoints in fear, but he maintained his composure. “She is here. In the main Hall.”

A silence stretched between the two gods as they stared first at the scout and then at each other, eyes wide and breath nearly stopping. Then, as one, they stood and sprinted for the main Hall.

The man’s word was true, their wayward demon stood in the Hall of the Temple. Darkness seemed to creep about the thick pillars, dulling the colors of paintings and tile, swirling about her legs. She was covered in blood, dried like rust in her loose hair, the only braids she bore were those of the vhenan’nahr. Her eyes gleamed with red fire, dark circles below them, and it ran through her skin in her blood, lacing across the paled skin, down her neck, whatever skin could be seen. The black and gold armor she usually wore had been traded for obsidian with rivers of red lyrium carved into it, detailed into the silver leather underneath.

It burned with fury, a whispered scream in the air, shimmered like an aura around her. The sensation stopped them in their tracks, lungs filling with the heat, scorching over their skin.

“By the Stars,” Solas whispered, trying to accept that this thing was once his lover. “What has she done to herself…”

“Thema,” Lyna lamented quietly. “My heart, what is this? What have you done?”

Andruil did not answer them and her stare did not waver. Not until Fen’ghilan had made sure the Hall was truly empty did she move. All doors slammed shut like thunder, no escape now for the three supposed Gods. “Three months… fifteen days…” Another voice spoke under hers, thick and growling, like two rocks rubbing together. “Eleven hours… Do you remember why I left? Do you believe me now?”

Her face turned into a snarl when the only reaction she received from Fen’harel was nothing at all. “You don’t. You son of a bitch.” The blood soaked bow-staff was raised, fingers sliding through the air until an arrow formed against it. Once pale gold in it’s magic now it was stained crimson, crackling with violent lightning. “I will kill you!”

“No!” Lyna screamed, racing toward Thema. “Love, don’t! You are not yourself! Do not do this!”

“Don’t get in my way, Lyna.” The uncurling of fingers, the arrow flew free with a whistle.

It exploded on the hastily formed barrier of her first lover, making the ground shake and dust fall from the rafters above them. No pity was in her gaze as the white barrier cracked and faltered. “I said, don’t get in my way.” Thema reiterated, a fury the only thing in her shattered voice. Her fingers drew through the air again, but the arrow never formed as a wall of black sent her flying.

Fen’harel growled, lips pulled back to bare every tooth of the wolf as he hunched over Lyna’s failing shield. The thick black fur at his shoulder was singed from the contact, the smell filling the air. His heart hurt under everything else he felt at the sight of the sprawled body, momentarily prone, on the polished granite. Across her back were four claw marks, the flesh exposed almost as red as the lyrium in her armor, and infection was setting in at the edges. He wanted to go to her and help but her madness had consumed her, and she had tried to kill him.

“Solas, don’t fight her! Don’t hurt her!” Lyna pleaded, sending her healing magic into him. “She is not herself! I have watched her succumb and she can come back from this! Please, don’t hurt her!” She stretched out her hand, intending to heal Thema. The screams of Thema’s madness met her mind through the magic, but she pressed on and healed the infection in Thema’s wounds.

A soft whine was given. He didn’t want to do this but he had to, to protect her, to protect the Rebellion. That whine turned into a growl again when the corrupted woman screamed, her body arching off the floor at the touch of the healing magic.

 _“Do not touch me!”_ A rippling wave of sanguine pushed through the Hall, destroying the remnants of Lyna’s barrier, singing the cloth of her clothing, and his fur again. “You… you… I tell you the truth and you don’t listen to me…” She staggered to her feet, bow-staff in hand again, one clawed finger jabbing in the air at Fen’harel. “I did this for you! I did this for us!”

Thema snarled, baring teeth turned jagged and sharp from the madness. “You don’t trust us, you _use_ us! We wear your vhenan’nahr, in front of the Evanuris, risking _everything_ for you and you turn your back on us!” Lyna’s pleas fell on deaf ears as she spat hatred. _“Su an’banal i’ma!”_

His growl turned into a matching snarl, wounds on his beating heart unseen to the eye. She did not believe that he tried to tell himself, it was the corruption speaking. Yet he strode forward, strings of spittle hanging from his jaw as he laid his ears back, lips curled, teeth on display and triple red eyes fixed on her. He would not let this madness continue.

“Thema, please, my love, I know you do not believe that,” Lyna urged, magic gathered around her but unused. “It was our choice to keep the vhenan’nahr, remember? He told us that we shouldn’t, that it would be safer to remove it, but we made a choice. Together. Because we love him! Please, vhenan, we are three pieces of one heart. We always have been. This is not you.” She closed her eyes briefly, fighting tears. _“This is not you…”_

Her words went unheard as the Huntress faced off with the Wolf. The crazed grin matched the anger of Fen’harel, both waiting for the other to flinch. All it took was the twitch of her fingers summoning forth an arrow to start their deadly dance. They were serpents flowing around each other, the snap of jaws and the whistle of arrows, black and red twined as one. Her leg caught in his jaw, an arrow in his flank, the lightning of red lyrium cracking the building around them…

Arrows opened him to the strike of her bow-staff turned into opportunities to close his jaws around her. The red lyrium on his teeth flooded his body with pain and howling in his mind but he never stopped. Every time he could his jaws would crunch down on black and red armor and soon it broke, hanging from her body in shards and torn leather. He flung her from his mouth, body rolling across the floor of their battlefield, cushioned at the last moment by a sparkling white barrier.

Blood poured from his brow, soaking his fur and blinding one set of eyes, from the metal end of her staff. A lucky blow as he had shattered her armor in his jaws. The pain of the red lyrium had faded to an ache and the howling had stopped in his thoughts.

Solas watched as she made her way back to her feet, some of the red fading from her complexion as her protection fell away. Rage still covered her face, twisting once beautiful features as she screamed. Her lunge for her bow, separated when thrown, was cut short as his true body slammed her into the granite again. “Sleep!” The green wisps of his will covered her and thankfully, she relaxed into unconsciousness as her blazing eyes rolled back.

The mage sat back on his heels, blood still pouring from his face from the ripped flesh upon his head. It dripped from his chin, his jaw, to stain the sweat and ochre soaked linen Thema was barely clothed in. His body hurt, muscles trembling, and his lungs were being sliced with knives upon every breath he took.

One storm blue eye looked up to stare into Lyna’s wide amethyst, and he stood.

“Solas…” Lyna began, then choked on a sob.

And he walked from the Temple without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Su an’banal i’ma - To the Void with You


	29. Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Direct sequel to Corruption.  
> The madness of the Void nearly destroys the three lovers, but a cure lies within their love.  
> Co-written

In her own arms, Lyna carried Thema home. She did not take her to the room the three of them were meant to share and instead placed her in a fortified cell. It nearly broke her to do it, to feel the wards that latched onto her lover to keep her as docile as possible, but it was necessary. If Thema were to wake, as she must for Lyna to talk her through this madness as she had done before, then she must be restrained. Lyna was covered in scratches and the blood of both of her lovers, but she had not fought and so she was mostly uninjured.

“I let you do this to each other,” Lyna whispered, choking on her sobs again. She had left orders to keep everyone away from Thema’s cell so that she would be the only one to see Andruil like this, so she was not worried about others seeing her weakness as she cried. Gently, carefully, Lyna cleaned Thema’s skin. She wiped the woman down with wet cloths, scrubbing away the blood of two battles. As she worked, she used her magic to heal Thema’s wounds, ignoring the scream of the red madness and the lyrium that touched her. She would suffer far worse to see Thema healed and safe and sane once more, after all.

“To see the two of you fight like that,” Lyna murmured to the sleeping woman, her hands shaking as they worked to clean her. “It was the worst thing I have ever witnessed in a very long life of suffering. And I couldn’t… I just sat there and watched you…” She choked again, hot tears burning on her cheeks.

Finally, Thema was healed and her skin was clean. Lyna drew up a blanket to cover her lover and protect her from the chill of the cell. She cast a paralysis on Thema’s limbs, then bent to gently kiss her lips. “Wake,” she whispered, power in her voice. Thema came awake with a gasp, red eyes unfocused as they opened. Slowly, her gaze came to rest on Lyna, her previous fury dimmed, but she would not speak.

“Thema, my heart,” Lyna whispered. “You are at home now. Do you remember where you have been?”

“I left and found the Void again,” she said, voice hoarse, and she coughed once, twice. “Did I sleep? I don’t… I feel like shit…” The woman tried to shift, freezing when her limbs would not move as she wanted. Red-touched blue flew to meet her lover’s gaze, fear and anger in her look. “Lyna? … Am I- am I in a cell?” Blue pierced through her to the metal gate beyond.

“You don’t remember?” Lyna asked, feeling her eyes prickle with fresh tears. “You… You tried to kill Solas. You nearly killed me when I tried to stop you. I couldn’t… I couldn’t get through to you. You wouldn’t listen, you only wanted blood. Solas fought you and made you sleep. He left and I don’t know where he has gone. I’ve been taking care of you. I had to bring you here because I didn’t… I was afraid you would still be violent. I don’t know where you’ve been, my heart. I don’t know what you’ve done.” Lyna gently stroked Thema’s face, brushing back her starlight hair. “All I know is that you fought Mythal and gravely wounded her, then came to find us and tried to kill Solas. I don’t understand, Thema.” Lyna tried to hold back her tears, but they slid down her face without permission, burning her skin. “I don’t understand any of this.”

Silence filled the cell for a few heartbeats and when she opened her eyes again crimson had retaken them, flooding into the veins of her face. “He deserved it,” Thema hissed. “So did she. I’m only sorry I didn’t kill _her_.” Muscles tensed, her body straining against the magic binding her, and she growled like a demon. That other voice was back, flitting at the edges of hers. “Better dead than used, that fucking wolf.”

Lyna choked back a sob, tears falling freely now. “Thema,” she whimpered. “I need you to remember. Remember when we were happy, before this cursed war. Remember when I danced for the two of you. Do you remember the first time he saw me dance? It was in my studio. You were so excited for him to see me! I went through my usual practice, nothing special about it, even for him. He was enraptured, do you remember? And then you wanted to show me off. You asked me to do the back bend, to curl backward into a circle. And you brought me incredible pleasure while he was tied to the chair! Do you remember how he came without either of us so much as touching him? Do you remember what it felt like to care for me in the aftermath? I came so hard I could barely move. Remember what it is to be happy together and you can get through this again. You’ve come back to me before. Come back to me now.” Lyna picked up Thema’s limp hand and kissed her fingers one by one, amethyst eyes searching through the crimson corruption for a spark of her lover.

Shivers raced through the Huntress’ body with each kiss and the flood receded, little by little. Sanguine faded from her skin, pulling back in her eyes until it ringed her pupils. “Lyna…” Thema’s words were thick, tears gathering in her lashes. “Ir abelas, vhenan, I’m so sorry…” As slowly as it had faded, the madness rushed back in. “You can’t have her, witch! I will see this world destroyed and you will be the last to die…”

Lyna clenched her jaw. It was not the first time whatever madness Thema possessed had spoken as its own entity, but it would be the last. “You will not keep her from me,” she vowed. “My heart will be herself again.” Gently, she placed Thema’s hand down beside her. She leaned in close, meeting the hate-filled red of a gaze that should have been loving lyrium blue. “I will save her, no matter what it takes. You will destroy _nothing._ I will send you back to the Void where you belong!” Then she stood and left the cell, locking it behind her, ignoring the pure rage and hatred in her lover’s face. Head held high and shoulders straight, Lyna left the dungeon behind with tears still drying on her face.

No one, not even Fen’ghilan, knew where Solas had gone. They all watched her out of the corners of their eyes, wary of her as though she would turn mad and attack them. She tried to pay it no heed, but their fear grated on her nerves. First, she went home to their rooms in Terasyl’an Tel’as, but Solas had not returned there. She went back to the Temple and found nothing but broken columns and blood stains. The eluvian showed a trace of his magic, which she followed through. It was an old trail, made of blood, sweat, and overflowing magic, but Lyna could track it. She traced Solas’s steps through the winding paths between worlds until she finally came out in a familiar forest. It was one of their eluvians, placed for the purpose of secret movement, but she recognized the place. She no longer needed Solas’s fading trail to know where he had gone.

The lake looked different in the sunlight than it had under the moons centuries earlier, but Lyna could still remember that night. Solas had fought a drunkard for objectifying her and generally being a pig, and after they were thrown out of the tavern they’d come to this lake. It had been Thema who suggested stripping down and swimming together, no one around to see. They’d spent hours playing in the water, wrestling and throwing kelp at each other. It had been one of the last truly peaceful times the three of them had together before the rebellion began in earnest.

On the shore of the lake where the three of them had once laid side by side and let the cool breeze dry their skin, Solas sat. He was soaking wet, seemingly having dunked himself in the lake fully clothed and then crawled out of the water to sit on the shore and stare at it. He did not look at Lyna when she approached and he did not speak.

“Thema is healed and resting,” Lyna informed him. He still did not react. “I had to place her in one of the cells beneath Terasyl’an Tel’as. She cannot… She cannot be trusted not to try anything.” Lyna felt more tears gathering, though she’d thought she’d run out. Anguish gripped her throat like a vise, pain ripping at her chest. “I freed her from your imposed sleep but paralyzed her limbs. I tried to speak with her.”

“I imagine that did not go well,” Solas said at last, his tone painfully distant. Lyna sank to her knees beside him.

“Look at me,” she demanded desperately. For long moments she thought he would ignore her, but finally he turned his head. His brow was still bleeding into his swollen eye, all his many cuts and bruises left untended. “Oh, you idiot,” Lyna muttered, reaching for him with her magic. He caught her wrists.

“Leave it be,” he told her, his one good eye betraying the depth of his sadness and pain.

“Don’t be stupid,” Lyna snapped. “It’s already going to scar! Don’t let it get infected, too!” Still, he hesitated for a few moments longer before finally allowing her to heal him. The swelling in his eye was easily fixed, bruises fading before her gaze. His brow would, indeed, scar after having been left to bleed openly for too long, the wound too deep to heal properly. He had arrow wounds in his side and scratches all over, but she managed to heal them well enough. It was exhausting after the energy it had taken to heal Thema, however, and she swayed on her knees once it was done. Her arms felt as though they were made of lead and she saw spots in her vision from the exertion. Solas caught her shoulders and kept her steady until she could keep herself upright.

“Thank you,” he murmured, then returned to his vigil, staring out at the empty lake.

“You won’t find her here,” Lyna told him.

“Then where will I find her?” he asked her, a brittle edge to his tone.

Lyna was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t know, Solas,” she finally admitted, feeling sobs shaking her chest again though she held them back. “I couldn’t reach her this time. I’m frightened. It’s never been this bad before. I needed you…”

“Then she is lost to us,” Solas said, his tone detached. Lyna stared at his profile in shock, then tackled him into the sand.

“Don’t you say that!” she snarled in his face, pounding on his chest. “After everything I have done to keep her, after everything I have sacrificed for you both, don’t you dare give up so easily!”

“She tried to kill me!” Solas shouted, throwing her off none too gently.

“She is not herself!” Lyna screamed, clinging to her anger to stave off more tears. “You could have killed her!”

“You could have subdued her!” he retorted. Lyna stopped short, reminded of how she had been paralyzed with fear, not knowing what to do besides cast barriers over them both and try to get through to them with words. She had not thrown a single blow despite Thema’s first attack having been against her.

“How could I live with myself if I harmed either of you?” she asked him instead, voice soft. She was staring at the ground and did not see Solas flinch under the weight of his guilt. “I needed you while I cleaned the blood from her skin and healed her wounds,” Lyna continued. “I needed comfort in the face of this mess. But you left me. You left _us._ You left her lying on the cold floor in a pool of her own blood. You left me staring after you, wondering if I was about to lose you both. I may not have handled the fight well, but you certainly didn’t handle the aftermath at all! It fell to me once more. Do you even love me anymore, Solas? It has been so long now. Do you still care?”

“You know I do!” Solas snapped, his tone in conflict with his words.

“I don’t,” Lyna whispered, meeting his gaze with despair. She saw anger in those storm blue depths. She saw anguish and loss. Love was perhaps the furthest from his feelings. “I don’t know anything anymore.” And without waiting any longer, Lyna stood and retreated from him. She went back to Terasyl’an Tel’as and she washed the blood from her body. In caring for Thema and searching for Solas, she had forgotten to care for herself. What little remained of her magic was spent healing her bruises and scratches, and then she collapsed into bed wearing only thin cotton breeches and tunic.

“I am alone,” Lyna whispered, then allowed the sobs to take her. She cried, curled into herself and heaving, while the sun vanished beneath the horizon and the moons shimmered high above her. But still the tears would not ebb. They flowed from her as though a dam had been broken and all the tears she had denied during the long years since Thema’s madness first began came flooding out at once. She lost track of time as stars wheeled above her and the sun returned, only to vanish once more. And still she cried, unmoving on the bed even as thirst overcame her and Hunger asked when last she had eaten. She ignored it all, lost in her agony.

She did not know how long it was before a gentle hand touched her brow and smoothed back her hair from her face. She barely felt it, lost as she was, but the touch continued. Gentle fingers combed through her tangled hair and rubbed her back soothingly. When she did not protest, a familiar body pressed against her back and strong arms dragged her close. Kisses were dropped on her shoulder, neck, and ear, everywhere lips could reach. Finally, Lyna turned in the arms that held her and clutched the warm chest she now faced. She tucked herself closer, seeking warmth and comfort rather than passively accepting it.

“Ir abelas, vhenan,” Solas murmured, gathering Lyna up in his arms. “You are right. I failed you both. I did not know what to do and so I did nothing at all. It was not fair to leave you like that. I should have been stronger for you both.” Lyna couldn’t answer, sobs still shaking her, voice lost to tears. “I am so sorry that I have made you doubt my devotion,” he murmured, voice suspiciously thick. He moved around her, tugged his jawbone necklace from beneath her body. He brought it before her eyes, drawing her attention to the twin braids tied to the string. “I may have cut off all my hair, but I kept these braids,” he told her. “I could not bear to be parted from them.” With a weak and trembling hand, Lyna reached to touch the braids. In them, she felt his love, as strong as ever, the vhenan’nahr having lost none of their potency despite having been separated for so long. In Lyna’s hair, Solas found her own pair of vhenan’nahr and stroked them gently between his fingers. “My love for you both will never fade away.”

As the magic shivered through Lyna’s fingers and up her arm she finally, finally calmed. The tears slowed, the sobs became hiccups and finally settled. Lyna wiped her face with her hands, scrubbing at her swollen and crusty eyes until they burned. She looked up at Solas and was greeted by a gentle smile. He placed a tender kiss on his lips as his fingertips stoked her cheek and she leaned into his touch.

“I don’t know how to save her,” Lyna admitted, voice rasping and broken. Solas reached behind himself and produced a water skin, which he held to her mouth for her to drink. She drained it dry, so many tears leaving her thirsty.

“I had a thought about that,” Solas told her. She looked up at him quickly.

“I’ll try anything,” she said urgently. He smiled just slightly.

“I love you,” he reminded her. “I love both of you. The two of you together are all I need or want. I have thought about it many times over the centuries but never asked. Lyna, I would like to marry you and Thema both.” Lyna blinked in confusion.

“How does this help her?” she asked. Then she made a noise in her throat when she realized how that sounded. “I didn’t mean- I love you, Solas, and I have thought about it, too, but in the context of what’s happened, how does this help?”

“The bond connects our minds,” Solas told her gently. “We will feel what each other feels and know each other’s emotions as intimately as though they were our own. This sharing of minds may be the key to saving Thema. If we could each shoulder some of the burden of this corruption, it would not overwhelm her so much. She could be herself again.”

Lyna searched Solas’s gaze desperately. “Would it work?” she asked in a whisper.

“There is no way to know except to try,” he told her. She frowned, thinking it over.

“Do you want this because you feel guilty over what happened?” she asked him after a while.

“No,” he told her calmly. “I want this because I love you both and I never wish to parted from either of you again. I want this because I want to be married to you. I want to feel what you feel and make you happy in whatever way I can. I want this because I want you.”

“I want you, too,” Lyna whispered, then wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and dragged his lips to hers. She kissed him desperately, teeth in his lips and tongue in his mouth, and he met her passion forcefully.

“Then let’s get married,” Solas said as they finally parted. Lyna nodded, smiling for the first time in months.

Together, Solas and Lyna made their way to Thema’s cell below the keep. The door was opened and Thema was roused from slumber gently. Solas knelt beside Lyna as she softly trailed her fingers over the woman’s cheek until her eyes slid open.

Crimson no longer stained her skin though it was there in her eyes. After all the time in the cell, and months spent in the Void her face was gaunt and pale, muscle in her body starting to waste away. “Are you finally going to let me out?” She asked, dry tongue running over chapped lips. When her sight passed over to Solas, the pointed tips of her canines were displayed. “What do you want?”

“Freedom for us all,” Lyna told her, suffusing her magic through Thema’s body and healing it of everything she could. Though corruption screamed through her, Thema’s chapped lips healed to plush health and wasting muscle grew strong again.

Solas took Thema’s hand in his and kissed her fingers much as Lyna had done before. “Thema, vhenan, ir abelas,” he said softly, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “For a few moments I acted as though I do not love you with all that I am and for that I can never forgive myself. But I do love you. Both of you. I have always loved you and I always will. I never wish to be parted from either of you again. And with that in mind, Lyna and I have come up with a way to share this burden on your mind, to take some of the weight from you. It is not a guarantee, but it is the only thing I can think of that might ease you.”

Panic surged across her features. “No!” For a moment she struggled with the spell that held her captive and docile, tendons standing in sharp relief on limbs and neck, then fell limp. “I can’t, I won’t, let you do that. It’ll take you too and I-I…”

“No, love, do not think that,” Lyna soothed, running her hand over Thema’s cheek and bending to gently kiss her brow. “You get better when you stay away from the Void. So do not return to that wretched place and let us ease you. Between the three of us, we can beat this corruption. But we cannot lose you, Thema. We love you so much.” Lyna felt tears gathering again and struggled against them as she cupped Thema’s cheek in her hand. “Stars, what would I do without you? I need you, Thema. I love you. For millennia we have never been apart for more than a few months at a time. Without you, either of you, I am lost! Let us ease you for the love we all share.”

“Please, Thema,” Solas added, still kissing her limp fingers.

“I hurt you.” One finger twitched on her hand, enough willpower for the moment to override the spells.  It brushed his cheekbone, trying to touch the scar on his brow. “I hurt both of you.”

“No more than I hurt myself,” Solas told her softly. “The thought of losing you…” He shook his head slowly, agony overtaking his features. “I cannot breathe. I should not have fought you. I should have been there for you through all of this. Let me be here for you now.”

“Let us share this burden, Thema,” Lyna pleaded. “Let us bring you back, make you whole again. Please, my love, let us help you.”

The white-haired hunter lapsed into silence, watching both of them. A few minutes, what felt like an hour later, she let out a resigned sigh. “Both of you have been around me for far too long…” Thema tried to joke. “As long as I can get a fucking bath, I’ll marry both of you. Because I’m cheap like that.”

Lyna gave a watery chuckle and Solas smiled at her. Lyna picked up Thema’s other hand and kissed it. Then she took one of Solas’s hands and they crossed their wrists together, making a tangle of their clasped hands. Solas’s magic was first to twine across their skin, a ribbon tying them together.

“We didn’t prepare vows!” Lyna suddenly exclaimed. Solas stopped and stared at her for a second, then laughed.

“I hardly think we need them,” he said with a smirk. “What just happened was enough, don’t you agree?”

Lyna smiled at the pair of them. “I suppose so,” she admitted, relenting. Then she wrapped her magic across their hands, binding them again. Thema had no magic, but it wouldn’t make a difference to the spell. They would be bound together, all three of them. The glimmering ribbons sank into their skin and Lyna gasped as new parts of her mind opened. She was flooded with sudden sensation, a scream of fury and pain that rushed through her and then eased as it was stretched too thin between them. She sighed in relief as the scream dimmed to a whisper, a sound echoed twice. She could feel the throbbing of Solas’s head, his new scar still causing him pain. She could feel the cold stone under Thema’s limp body, the muscles that were cramping from disuse. She sent her healing magic to them both, soothing their aches, and felt a thrill of love and comfort from each of them. It was followed immediately by shock, matched perfectly from them both as they felt how similar their reactions to Lyna’s healing were. Lyna laughed and felt how her joy affected them. When she opened her eyes again, lyrium and storm blue looked back with matching wonder.

“And so we are wed,” Lyna said, awe in her voice. “And we are not mad.”

“Not yet…” Corruption faded completely from Thema’s eyes though it still lingered in the back of her mind, a sleeping beast that could still be roused if she was not careful. “All married people go insane at some point.”

The bond was a struggle for her, her spirit not used to such things, but given time would become as natural as it was for any normal Elvhen. With a clear mind she thought of a hot bath, wondering if her new spouses would pick it up, with both of them in it and quite naked, washing each other. Perhaps doing more than washing each other. It had been a century after all, and now that the corruption was gone she felt oddly light, a pressure gone from her chest. She wanted to touch and be touched, to apologize for the pain given in her favored way.

Lyna felt heat suffuse her belly as she removed the enchanted paralysis from Thema’s limbs. Solas gathered Thema up in his arms, intending to carry her up to their rooms.

“Consummation _is_ generally the next step,” he reminded them both, reading Thema’s emotions with far more ease than Lyna had.

“Good,” Lyna said as she stuck to their side and opened doors for the pair. “It’s been a century since we all had sex together and I am in sore need of a cock in my cunt. I am very sure that Thema is equally desperate for it to be in her mouth.”

Solas laughed heartily while Thema snickered in his arms and Lyna felt their mirth as a warm buzz in her mind. “This should prove to be quite interesting,” Solas mused, grin in place. And so it would.


	30. New Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On your knees  
> Lyna shows Inquisitor Delilah Lavellan what it means to have Solas's love and devotion, then explains to her why she loves both her spouses.

Solas dislodged Lyna’s book by planting his face directly in her lap. She chuckled as she allowed it, the book falling away off the bed to clatter to the floor of their room. With gentle fingers she massaged his scalp and the big tendons in his neck until he released a long, groaning sigh.

“This Inquisitor is still making you miserable?” she asked him in clumsy Common, still learning the new language of the world.

“She is positively _insufferable_ ,” Solas grunted into her thigh. Lyna chuckled.

“What happened between you two?” she asked gently.

“Nothing!” he bit out immediately, a bit defensively. Lyna sighed and continued her slow massage.

“Clearly she thinks something happened,” she observed mildly. She tugged on the tip of his ear and received half-hearted swatting that missed her by a mile in return as she laughed lightly. “Tell me,” she encouraged again. Solas sighed heavily before finally looking up at her, leaning his chin on her knee.

“I did not intend to lead her on or _court_ her or whatever it is she believes passed between us,” he told her sincerely. “I found her intriguing, charming at times, even. She liked to ask me about the Fade and my travels and my art. I thought it was simple conversation and nothing more. But she found me in the Fade one night, letting the Anchor guide her dreaming. We walked in Haven, which had been destroyed, and spoke of the Breach and the destruction it caused, how she had come to be Thedas’s great hope for survival. I do not recall exactly what I said but I suppose she thought I was flirting. She called me a sweet talker and then she kissed me.”

“A sweet talker?” Lyna repeated, one brow raised and a smirk tugging at her lips. Solas groaned at her. “I happen to agree with that.”

“Vhenan, _please,_ ” Solas admonished. Lyna forced herself into seriousness once more, pressing her thumbs into the sensitive muscle behind his ears that allowed them to twitch in response to stimulus. He closed his eyes briefly as she kneaded, his whole face relaxing for a few moments. “I pulled away at once when she kissed me,” he continued. “I said something to try to put her off and then pushed her from the dream. I thought that was the end of it. We left for the Fallow Mire in the morning and she mentioned nothing of it. I found you on our second night within the Mire. Everything else you witnessed.”

“And now she is taking out her ire on myself and Thema?” Lyna continued for him with a slight question to her statement. He nodded and then dropped his head into her lap once more.

“She does not understand the concept of what we are to each other,” he told her crotch. “This era favors relationships between only two people, especially when the relationships are long term and committed. The fact that there are three of us confuses and infuriates her. It seems to have that effect on more than just her, but the others are more discreet about their disapproval or confusion. She seems to revel in making me miserable and infuriating me.”

“Perhaps,” Lyna murmured, thinking about ways in which she might make the Dalish woman understand that what they had was serious and real.

“I know that tone,” Solas said warningly. “You will not convince her with words, my heart.” Lyna smiling at the back of his head and pressed her fingers behind his ears again, making him moan pathetically into her thigh.

“Perhaps not,” she admitted, spotting a flash of darkness and the reflectiveness of elven eyes through the crack in the barely open door. She knew who was there, had spotted the little spy before. And it was far too perfect an opportunity to give up.

Lyna pulled Solas’s face up with both hands, then kept it up with one finger under his chin. She smiled at him mischievously. “I know what you need, vhenan,” she told him. His eyes darkened as he caught the direction of her thoughts. He reached for her, intending to press her back into the bed, but she pushed on him and clicked her tongue. “Not that,” she admonished, spine straight and shoulders stiff, her posture proud. “On your knees,” she whispered to him. A fine tremor ran up his body before he complied. He slipped off the bed and moved back from it a little before kneeling and resting his hands on his thighs as he looked up at her. She slid to the edge of the bed and looked at him, tapping her chin with a finger as she thought of what to do. From the corner of her eye she saw pale skin and dark hair as their spy settled in. It was strangely exciting to know that someone would bear silent witness to their pleasure, his devotion, her love. And suddenly she had her path laid before her.

She stood and leaned over him. He maintained eye contact with her as she picked up the jawbone around his neck. She lifted it to her lips and kissed it ardently, as though it was his lips. Then she allowed it to drop and thump against his chest. She grabbed his collar and used it to lift his face to hers, kissing him far more passionately than she had the ancient bone he still wore. He moaned into her mouth and tried to force his tongue past her lips, but she pulled away. He whined at her but obeyed, his hands still resting on his thighs. With the grip she still had on his collar, Lyna pulled off his tunic, leaving his upper body clad in nothing but that jawbone. She sighed down at his magnificent form, still wide with muscle and beautiful, his shoulders designed for her and for Thema to clutch at in pleasure.

Lyna stood before him and smiled as she pushed the straps of her loose gown over her shoulders. First one, to reveal the swells of her breasts, then the second to drop the cloth to her waist. She sighed luxuriously, feeling his eyes traveling across her skin like a physical weight. Another pair of eyes watched, too, and she found herself moving even more smoothly in this dance to show off to that other pair of eyes as they electrified her in strange ways. With a quick twirl she allowed the fabric to pool on the floor around her feet. Solas groaned as she was bared to him, his eyes taking in every inch of her skin. And though he had seen it all just that morning, had left the marks of his teeth on her inner thighs, he still beheld her form as though it was both his first and last time seeing it, with an intensity that left her breathless.

She walked to him, stopping when his chin nearly met her groin and his head was tilted all the way back so he could meet her gaze. She stared down the length of her body at him, the pure devotion in his gaze making her knees quake.

In her broken Common, she asked him softly, “Do you love me, Solas?” He shuddered before her.

“Always,” he whispered brokenly, eyes wide and dark.

“Then drink me,” she commanded quietly. His hand snapped up to grab her knee tightly before he forced his grip to relax. She drew her leg up for him and rested it over his shoulder, balancing on only one foot and opening herself to him. He drew out the moment, his breath hot on her innermost self as he simply beheld her. One of his hands gripped her thigh strongly, the other coming up to cup her backside. It wasn’t until she moved her hips, a smooth undulation, a hint of dances to come, that he finally gave in.

That first touch of his tongue made her moan as her head fell back, hips twitching forward on his face. He took a deep breath and dove in, his tongue plunging deep inside her as he buried his face in her sex. Lyna danced for him, hips moving smoothly, slowly for him. With one hand she held him against her, nails raking his scalp. Her other hand explored her body, feeling the flat expanse of her belly before traveling up to cup each breast and pluck her nipples. She danced for their audience, hand twining into her hair, shoulders following the motions of her hips. She allowed her breathless moans and sighs to escape unheeded from her lips. She closed her eyes to focus on the sensations of her body, her own touch stimulating her skin as Solas drank her from within. He clutched her, an arm stretched up her back to hold her to him and one hand gripping her ass with bruising strength. He moaned, too, as he drank from her. As his tongue pressed against the engorged little nub that would see her to completion shortly he moaned around his mouthful of her flesh and she shivered for him. He teased that sensitive part of her, circling his tongue around it before pressing on it once more.

Lyna gasped as orgasm quickly swept her away, the motions of her hips frantic against him as he moaned around her flesh. He drew it out, prolonging her finish with every trick he knew. He flicked his tongue against her clit before plunging it inside her briefly. He had her crying out for him as the pleasure dragged on and on.

“Solas, take me!” she cried out. “Sate yourself in me!” She did not know if the words were correct, couldn’t think to translate past the burning pleasure in her core, but he understood anyway. He surged up from his knees, her leg still hooked over his shoulder. He threw her onto the bed and briefly struggled with his trousers. He freed only his cock and balls, too impatient to remove the pants entirely, and plunged inside her. Still caught up in the waves of her orgasm, Lyna screamed at the new sensation and he groaned loudly to feel her squeezing him. His thrusts were erratic, his own finish nearing swiftly, as he rutted over her. She wrapped herself around him, legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, her face buried in his neck. He finished quickly, a few short thrusts followed by a desperate groan and she gasped as his seed flooded her.

He collapsed onto her once he was finished, physically sated and emotionally exhausted. She pushed him over and rained kisses on his face before lifting herself off of him, careful to block the view from the door. She reached for a cloth on the nearby washstand and cleaned him off before pulling up his trousers to cover him. She washed herself between her legs before fetching her gown off the floor.

“I will return with refreshments,” she told him, smiling down at him gently. He gave her a tired grin as she moved his legs onto the bed and pulled their furs over him. She kissed him as she heard a few soft scraping sounds outside their door. She lingered to give their audience a few moments to retreat, then left the room and shut the door firmly behind her.

The Inquisitor was in the rotunda, picking up a book, her cheeks very, very red as Lyna entered. She passed her by, pretending not to notice the woman’s jerky movements or shortness of breath, pretending that she hadn’t known the woman was watching the whole time. Lyna passed her by without even a glance and went to the kitchens. She begged a pitcher of chilled water and some cheeses and bread leftover from morning, which she was given readily enough. The servants liked Solas, and Lyna had done what she could to make their lives and their jobs easier, so they liked her fairly well.

As Lyna reentered the rotunda, she saw that the Inquisitor had managed to collect herself, though a rosy hue still stained her cheeks and she refused to acknowledge Lyna’s presence. Lyna set her tray of water and snacks down on Solas’s desk and walked over to the woman, who sat on the couch nearby pretending to read. She looked up with a scowl when Lyna’s intent became unmistakable.

“You believe that you know what love means,” Lyna said softly, struggling to make her point as clearly as she could when the language was still unfamiliar and so very lacking. “But what we have is not what you know. Your words, this language, it is so small. The feelings, the emotions behind the words are smaller, too. Vhenan. Lath. Heart and love do not say enough.” Delilah bristled and opened her mouth but Lyna did not let her take control of the conversation. “I would say instead that he is part of me,” she continued. She smiled softly and held her hand over her heart. “Here. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. This is him. This is her. This is them. They beat inside my chest, always there, even when they are far away.” Delilah’s ire cooled as she took in Lyna’s sincerity, her gentle demeanor. Flashing gray eyes gentled as the woman finally listened, finally took Lyna’s words to heart and tried to understand.

“They complete you,” the woman ventured, no longer sounding angry. Lyna smiled, pleased with her efforts.

“No,” she disagreed, shaking her head slightly. “I am not incomplete. There is nothing missing from myself. No, I would say that they make me more. They make me better. She makes me stronger. He makes me wiser. I strive to be more than I am so that they will always have a home in me.” She made a noise her throat when the words still didn’t sound quite right. “This language is so small!” she lamented again. “I am more when they are near, but I am not _less_ when they are not.”

“Why not be with one of them?” Delilah asked, sounding young and confused. “Why do you need them both?”

Lyna considered how best to answer the question for a moment. “You have two parents, yes?” Delilah nodded. “They both live?” Another nod. “They have taken care of you in your childhood?” Frowning in confusion, Delilah once again nodded assent. “Good. Then the comparison stands. Your mother is not your father and your father is not your mother. Does your mother provide for you the same comfort that your father does? Does your mother sing the same songs to lull you to sleep that your father does? Do they sound the same? The arms that hold you, they are equal in all things? When you are frightened, will you often seek out one parent over the other? When you are hurt, does one of your parents help more than the other?”

“Yes,” Delilah whispered, seeming to turn over the idea in her head, frowning in thought.

“As it is with my Thema and my Solas,” Lyna told her, smiling. “They give to me different comforts, different strengths. We are three pieces of one heart because we make each other stronger together. I do for them what I can, everything I can, but I know that they find different comforts in each other than they can find with me. Why would I deny them these comforts found in each other? Why should I not find my own comforts in each of them? It is better, I think, that we take comfort however it comes to us, especially in times of darkness.”

When Lyna fell silent, Delilah was quiet for a long time. Then she finally looked up at Lyna, no hostility anywhere to be found for the first time since they’d met. She opened her mouth but seemed unable to find the words. Instead, the woman simply nodded. Lyna smiled and returned to her tray of food to bring it back to Solas to soothe him after all she’d asked of him.

Lyna made it only as far as the hall between the rotunda and their bedroom before a crash and a giggle alerted her to Thema’s return. Arms snaked around her but she caught a wrist and spun away before they could close around her. She raised a brow at Thema’s bright, excited eyes and wide grin, then looked down at the hand she still held. Under the nails and around the palm were the stains of her hunt, and Lyna clucked her tongue.

“Wash yourself, vhenan,” she admonished. Thema snatched her hand back with a frown. She snagged some cheese off Lyna’s tray, then scampered away toward the baths. Lyna laughed softly, shaking her head at her wife’s antics, then turned to finish tending to Solas.


	31. Spoken Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Suicide mention, trigger warning

Even though they called themselves Gods now the Evanuris still needed to sleep. Not all slept at the same time, the greed of the others turning away from their common foe and onto each other. Fen’harel and Ghilan’nain took advantage of this, slipping into slumber as well while the Rebellion still warred. Andruil led in their stead, taking advantage of momentary power vacuums to liberate and claim lands. Rumors spread that Fen’harel never slept, and then far more vicious propaganda meant to undermine faith and belief.

This day Andruil sat upon her marriage bed, watching over her heart.

A scroll of the latest unit movements was draped across her lap, a finger marking the last place she had read. Her back laid against one of the wooden posts at the foot of the bed, dressed in one of Solas’ tunics. When her spouses slept she did not stray far from them. The Evanuris had tried to kill them many times, even when they were gone from the battlefields, assassins hidden amongst freed slaves.

Solas and Lyna laid in each other’s arms, their chests rising and falling in soft rhythm. They still had weeks to go before the woke and their songs in her mind were dim. It was disconcerting even after all these years to have them mostly gone. It was heaven and hell, this bond, being able to share intent and emotion, yet unable to completely hide her secrets.

Guilt was constant in the back of her mind now, as well as worry. Memories of what had been plagued her when they slept.

She had never told them what had really happened so long ago. They knew now that what she had spoken of was not the whole truth. Solas and Lyna did not press for more information but the bond told her they worried and wanted to know. That worry drove her own, unsure of it she could even say the truth. What would they think of her then? That she was a coward? That she wasn’t even a real person?

Breath stuttered in her lungs, a cold wash racing over her skin. To lose them after everything she’d already done was a fear far greater than anything she’d ever known. Thema knew she had to tell them.

It was not until night had fallen, glow stones shedding weak light over the bed, that she finally said anything. “This feels really weird talking to you guys while you’re sleeping…” Her voice felt thin, lost in the silence. Fingers picked at each other or tugged on her vhenan’nahr. “Especially since I royally fucked up with the Void and now I’m going to dump a shit ton of other stuff on you.”

A deep breath, the quiver of a bottom lip. “I, um… bad decisions are pretty much my m.o. really. Back on Earth, I ran away from my families after my parents split. Lived on the streets or whatever bed I could get. Did a lot of shit I’m not proud of. Did a lot of shit I’m surprised I survived.” Thema chuckled weakly. The feeling of rough concrete, brick and mortar, were phantoms on her skin, the cheering of a back alley fight, and then going to the home of someone from the crowd.

“Broke my arm during a fight. Had to go to an emergency room. It’s a, uh, place for people who need a healer right away and can’t wait to see their usual healer. It’s fucked up as shit, really.” The sleeping lovers had not moved while she spoke, still lost in their dreams. “They had to do this thing where they can see the broken bones. Then they did more things. Took my blood to study it, and then some of me to study. I was in that hospital for about a week before I knew why. No one would tell me why.” The smell of cleaners, bleach, filled her nose and she could recall the stark white halls and the beeping of heart monitors.

“So this little asshole of a doct- healer, I mean, he comes in and tells me I have advanced metastatic bone cancer. It’s a, it’s corruption in the bones. Makes them weak, painful, but I was so used to pain that I didn’t think anything of it. He told me that I only had about three weeks to live, gave me some drugs to help with the pain and just dumped me on the curb. Fucking asshole!” Teeth clenched and ground together, the memory spiking hot anger through her body. She very clearly remembered the Doctor’s face, rather handsome, but his whole demeanor made him ugly.

“Went somewhere else, got a second opinion. That doctor told me the same thing, but he was a shit ton better about it. Answered my questions but he still said that I didn’t have much time left. He got me a room at a nearby hotel since I didn’t have a place, paid for a few nights, told me to get in contact with my families and shit. Fuck.” Blood started to well up in the flesh beside the nail bed, skin picked away as she talked. “Ow. Motherfucker.” Copper taste filled her mouth as she sucked on the wound.

“Ugh. Figures.”

“Anyway… I didn’t call my family. They didn’t care that I left, they wouldn’t care about this. After my time at the hotel ran out I hiked out, with a broken arm in a cast, over the border into BC and found this area that was pretty far back from any road and hiking trail.”

Thema lapsed into silence, biting her lower lip as the memory flooded back. Rich, earthy loam, trees all around with roots winding through the soil and glimpses of a clear blue sky overhead. “I… had a bottle of Johnny Walker and my pain killers with me. Three weeks to live? I refused to go out like that, curled in a ball crying. So I… I ended it right there. My choice.” She barely remembered any of it, just the burn of whiskey and the feeling of pills scraping her throat raw. “Wonder if anyone found my body…”

“Somehow I wound up here. As a ghost, spirit, thing. Don’t remember much of that, just gray haze and sometimes seeing Spirits. They didn’t like me and always ran when I came near. So I just… wandered for a long time… Might have scared the crap out of some Elvhen, no clue.”

“There was this woman, an Elvhen, in the forest. She was dying, had Andruil’s bow on her face. Maybe one of her hunters? Or Andruil hunted her. Don’t know. When she died I got sucked into her body.” She shuddered, wrapped up in herself, feeling the memory yet again. “Her body broke… bones broke and healed every day. Every bone. Teeth fell out over and over, and my - her hair… I was blind a lot of the time. Couldn’t feel anything but the pain and I just wanted to die again. Maybe it was divine punishment for killing myself, being trapped in a body like that.”

“If it wasn’t for my friends I probably would have died right away. If… If Lyna hadn’t found me I definitely would have. She’s the only reason I’m alive. Or am I? … I don’t know.”

She rested her chin on her knees, arms wrapped around them as she still watched her husband and wife. “So that’s me… bad decisions and mistakes one after the other wrapped up in a body that isn’t even mine.”

“Everything I am and done, do, is nothing but fucking luck. I don’t deserve any of this, or you two.” She stroked their cheeks gently, a kiss pressed into their brows. “I don’t know how you two can love me.”

The couch by the main door was her bed for that evening and the layers of blankets and furs were no replacement for their warmth and arms. Thema watched them as she crawled into the temporary nest, the dagger under her pillows there in case she needed it. She would guard them with her life and gladly give it up if needed so they could move forward to save their people. “Ar lath, ma vhenans.”


	32. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Thema’s heartfelt confession, her lovers and now her spouses offer every comfort, every reassurance that she is loved. She will always be loved.

When Lyna woke after her long sleep cycle and opened her eyes in the pale light of predawn, the first thing she saw was Solas’s face and his eyes fluttering open moments after hers. She smiled softly at him as she stretched, releasing the tension in dormant muscles and reawakening her body. She shifted closer to Solas and kissed him softly, holding him close for a moment as his warm arms slipped around her in return and a satisfied sigh rippled through him.

“Do you remember briefly waking some time ago because she was in distress?” Lyna asked him in the softest whisper. He tensed for a moment and then nodded.

“I remember what she said,” he admitted. Lyna sighed heavily, then looked across the bed for their wife. But she wasn’t in bed. She was fast asleep on the couch across the room, her hand under her pillow no doubt gripping the hilt of a dagger. Lyna and Solas sighed in unison, feeling the guilt and despair of their wife pulsing in time with her heartbeat as she slept.

Solas was the one to rise from the bed and approach her. She stirred as he gently took her hand from her weapon and shifted her to pick her up. She woke once she was in his arms but she knew it was him and she wasn’t afraid. She frowned at them as Solas deposited her in bed next to Lyna and then crawled back in beside her. Lyna pulled Thema into her arms and Solas wrapped himself around them both.

“I love you so much,” Lyna told her as she lay stiff and confused in their embrace. “But sometimes you can be a bit of an idiot.” Solas chuckled. “Haven’t I told you a thousand times that it doesn’t matter at all who you used to be? Thema, whatever happened before brought you here, to our world, to us. And for that, I love it.” She tightened her arms. “I wish I could take the pain for you, all that despair, but you are my love and I am so grateful for every bad decision you made that brought you down this path.”

“Where would any of us be without you?” Solas asked, his arms tightening until it was nearly painful. “Thema, you are our heart and you have done so much for us.”

“You heard me?” Thema asked in a horrified whisper.

“Your distress woke us only enough to hear,” Solas admitted. “We could not move, sleep still holding us fast. But we heard.”

“Thema, you are not the sum of your actions,” Lyna told her. “You are so much more than that. You are your thoughts, your desires, your emotions, your intentions. You’ve made mistakes, yes. But who hasn’t? You are Thema and you are our wife and we love you. We will always love you.”

“You could not change it now,” Solas told her with a smile in his voice, “even if you tried.”

“That’s right,” Lyna added with a smile. “You’re stuck with us now. No getting away!”

All at once, Thema relaxed in their hold, going boneless within the warmth of their embrace. Their bond told them that she was trying to hold back tears and both of them flooded her with reassurance until she let go. She tried to be quiet, soft gasps escaping her as hot tears slid down her face. Lyna tucked her face into Thema’s shoulder and Solas curled his body around hers and her sobs increased in volume. They held her fast as she began to sob in earnest, hiccupping in gasping breaths to sob louder each time. They felt the release of so much poison from her mind, pus bled from the wound that had never healed even after thousands of years. She’d been holding it in, letting it fester, believing herself unworthy for all that time. Lyna only wished that she’d pushed the matter sooner, drained the fester from this wound before it got so bad. But she tried to keep her thoughts serene, a gentle comfort for Thema to take in. She held her wife and breathed in the scent of her hair and kissed whatever skin she could reach while she sobbed in great heaves. Solas did much the same, letting her cry and holding her tight, keeping his mind open and loving. They reminded her gently through the bond that she was safe and loved and it would be alright.

Lyna lost track of time as the sun rose high above them and Thema cried millennia of tears. It didn’t matter, was entirely worth it to feel the way Thema’s mind cleared with each passing moment. Whatever corruption lingered from the Void within her, within them all, found less and less to cling to as this poison drained away. It would be much easier for them once she was done and Lyna could not contain her grateful sigh.

Once Thema’s tears finally dried and her hiccups settled, Lyna sat up and gently brushed away Thema’s hair while she scrubbed her face. She smiled down at her lovers, Solas kissing her cheek and the side of her face while he continued to hold her. Thema’s lyrium blue eyes were bloodshot, her lashes crusted with salt, her nose red and dripped snot that she unsuccessfully tried to sniff away. But she was still beautiful as she looked up at Lyna with new clarity in her gaze.

“How about a bath?” Lyna suggested with a smile. “I think we could all use a bath.” Grateful agreement thundered through their bond from them both and they slowly clambered out of bed to wash.


	33. Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3some AU! SMUTTY SMUT!! "A favored and selfish position became his cock in Lyna, splayed beneath him, and Thema’s cock in him as she knelt behind." Quoted from Painted Ropes! WRITE THIS SCENE I NEED IT FOR SCIENCE! Thema in a strap on will kill me... :D
> 
> Prompt request from Katalyna Rose

She waited until the Inquisitor was going to be out of Skyhold for quite some time to revisit some old games of theirs. For this one, her wife watched most of it, helping at times as they piled orgasm after orgasm onto their husband. He was not allowed to leave the room, no clothing, doted on liberally as Thema stretched him, readying his body for what was to come.

Two days they made sure he would be pliant and ready, anticipation sizzling in the air.

He jerked when the sound of the straps tightening on her hips sounded out. The leather of the harness was like a whip crack, done on purpose to see his reaction, digging into her flesh but the discomfort was welcome. This was for him, not her, and the subtle pain would help stave off her own pleasure. Kisses were placed up his spine as she settled behind him, grinning at the way his body flexed and tasted of sweat. “Solas…” Calloused hands smoothed over his hips, marked with red ribbons from his wives nails. “Are you ready?”

The bob of his head was answer enough, the way his hips pressed back against hers, balls hanging heavy between his legs, even more confirmation. “Lyna?” A hand left the mage to stroke along the curve of Ghilan’nain’s hip. She lay under Fen’harel, his cock sheathed within, her arms around his shoulders. Thema knew her legs would wrap around them both soon. The flash of amethyst eyes was all she needed before Lyna distracted Solas with a kiss.

“Tell me if it hurts.” The cock strapped to her hips was taken in hand, bulbous tip pressed against the oily gape of his entrance. It wasn’t the biggest one they’d ever used but the lack of size was made up for in small ridges and bumps. She had used it on Lyna to test it and the results had been well worth the price of the toy and now she was eager to see how Solas would respond. His back and flanks were stroked as she started to push in, moaning gently as the head was pulled in by his flesh, and he arched back into her, deeper into Lyna.

He was so open, so slick that she slid to the base with ease and the sounds he made were just so… open, needy, louder than he usually was, writhing between the bodies of his wives as he was claimed in almost every way. It was almost slutty, a punch in the groin to hear him this way, gasping for air like there wasn’t enough room left for his breath, kissing and biting at whatever skin he could reach on his cream-haired lover. The poor woman would bear the brunt of his marks.

It was slow, letting him adjust to her cock and the texture of it. Her thighs were already dripping with her own excitement, and she could likely cum with just a few touches. This change in dynamic, the intensity, the intimacy, was heady, striking at groin and heart, the trust a greater arousal than the act itself. Thema settled her hands on his hips as the motion of her cock grew harder, leather smacking into his ass with every thrust, setting the rhythm of his own cock in Lyna. Two voices filled the air, one begging for more of her cock.

Legs slid over and around, ankles hooked on the swell of her hip, caught on the edge of the harness. The squeeze of those slender, powerful legs was all she needed to know if her wife was enjoying this or not. From the way she had thrown her head back, a litany of moans and mewls falling from her lips, Thema knew she was.

His ass grew redder with every thrust, and her hand aided it, cracking down every now and then as she fucked him into Lyna and Lyna into the bed. She whispered into his ear that he was taking her cock so well, that watching her cock slide in and out of his ass was so fucking hot. Teeth left marks in the skin of his back, adding to his desperate pleas for more.

She was ruthless, making love to them both in her own way, devouring the quivers that raced through his body every time she brushed that one place that made him see stars. That broke him, his begging turning into howls muffled in Lyna’s shoulder, his hands clawing at the pillows and sheets.

It was the shudder that raced down his body that warned her, a hand leaving his side to cup his sac. Solas’ back arched, Lyna gasped as she found her own peak, as he filled her with precum and came so hard he passed out.

The harness was dropped on the floor to be cleaned later and a rag was fetched to wipe everyone down. Her cunt was still drenched, need buzzing under the skin but it was not to be fulfilled. It would go away soon enough and it would surge back up later when Solas took control back from her. For now she laid against his back, cradling the limp form as Lyna warmed his front. They spoke softly, pressing kisses into his skin, planning a bath and massage for their wolf.

Thema could not help herself when Solas stirred, bleary eyes fluttering open. “So, I got you to squirt.”


	34. Hidden Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3some AU: Maybe just Thema and Solas, maybe Lyna too. Bath sex! :D
> 
> Prompt from Katalyna Rose turned into exposition and sap.

Life settled into a rhythm in Skyhold as the three adjusted to this world together. The excitement over their relationship settled, antagonisms faded and while they couldn‘t stop the whispers in the dark they continued on as they always had. Lyna and Thema took on new roles in the growing Inquisition, supplementing the stocks of meat outside of trade agreements, helping the healers, subtly dispensing hard won knowledge about red lyrium. Their true identities were as safe as Solas’ was and only uttered in the hidden passages of the Hold that been built over by Skyhold. Even the discovery of Dalish’ bow-staff had only caused concern for a few heartbeats, the latent power in the Ironbark unresponsive to its new wielder.

Nights were spent together when Solas was not out with the Inquisitor, and they had to fight for normalcy in their bed. Sleep was different and arms flailed as they tossed and turned, the magic that kept them still now gone, giving each other new bruises and marks. It was messy, adjusting to the Veil, Thema better at it than Lyna. Learning Common was harder, the language smaller and confining and this time Andruil could teach Ghilan’nain as the Common tongue was so close to her world’s English.

This day, as a storm raged over Skyhold, and Lyna was caught away in the deluge, Solas and Thema revisited a new area of Skyhold. The old passages that led into Terasyl’an Tel’as could only reach the upper levels, their old quarters, a library with no books, Fen’ghilan’s rooms, and others now empty. So much of the old structure had been lost over time with the snow melt, land slides, and avalanches until this small section was all that was left, and Skyhold had been built on top of it, anchored into their old home.

All of the cobwebs and debris had been cleaned away, glow stones sitting in ancient holds to shed their light in the halls. They had found items that had been left behind, things they hadn’t thought to ever have again: one of Lyna’s necklaces, a carved dragon Thema had been given from a child, and the old collar Solas had worn in the Gardens of Arlathan. There were more items of lesser importance: a pauldron which belonged to either woman, pages ripped from a book, a destroyed scroll, and pieces of pottery scattered everywhere. The greatest find was none of those, but the intact bathing room that had been theirs.

The windows were blocked by the mountain, dirt piled up over the centuries, but everything within as still as it had been. Columns of granite carved with wolves, halla, and owls, the tiled floor that shimmered in blue and silver, Solas’ paintings on the walls depicting the Elvhenan countrysides, the peaks of the Frostbacks and far more intimate scenes of the three of them. The bathing pool had been scrubbed to shining, the runes set into the stone and into the mouth of the fountain brought back to life. When water filled the pool, steam rising from its surface, there had been plenty of smiles to go around and a long soak enjoyed in their privacy.

This time Thema and Solas brought oils and scented wax, filling the room with the scent of almond, clove, and cinnamon. Glasses of Orlesian wine lifted from the racks sat at the edge of the bath, lips marking the edges and coating their tongues. The pair soaked in the warm water, Solas leaning back against his wife’s chest. Thema was pressing kisses into his scalp, her fingers stroking the edges of his ears to make them twitch. There were silver rings in his ears again, two and one, a gift from his women. The gentle tugs on them made him moan, exciting the nerves that ran to the tips of his ears.

It was lazy and sensual, shared kisses and the touch of hands. The brush of fingers over jaw and neck turned into kisses with more fire, fingers digging into flesh. His moon-haired wife was draped over the edge of the pool, his face between her legs, tongue dancing over her slick flesh. Her nails raked over his scalp to leave little sparks of pain in their wake, moaning into her cunt as he consumed her. Solas played his magic over her skin, smirking around her clit as she convulsed, crying out his name and it echoed in the silence. His fingers drew a shrill sound, hips bucking against his face as he rubbed, twirled and fucked her with them.

The way her cunt glistened in the light of the glow stones, her rich creamy scent mixing with the spice of the oils and wax, the squelch of his digits moving in her slick, made his cock pulse and twitch, already flushed red. The flex of fingertips in her, the suckle of her clit sent her over the edge. Hips lifted from the floor, Thema’s nails scrabbling over the tile, a shout ringing out that nearly deafened him. He drank her down, her taste on his tongue better than the wine they had drunk, wet on his cheeks and chin.

It was always a thrill that his wives could want him so quickly, that they were never sated with just one, that he could drive them to the breaking point where they left marks on his skin that could take days to heal. He left his own, pressing copper-flavored bruises into Andruil’s neck, her pulse rushing under his tongue. His demon welcomed him between her legs eagerly, biting at his lips, calloused hands guiding his cock into her. Legs wrapped about his hips, not letting go until she wished to.

Solas fucked up into her, one hand cradling the back of her head, rocking her back onto her shoulders with every push. The bruises on her neck were finally left alone and he turned his attention to her heaving chest. Teeth played with the buds of her nipples, taut and almost chilled in the steamy air. He feasted on her skin as they fucked, slow and deep, their own version of love making. Even now, all these centuries later, his wife still did not like the gentleness of other ways. She found love in her spouses’ lust, that they came undone for her, wanted her viciously, the raw primal need in their bones, and not in the hours spent joined with sweet words.

So he rutted, fucked, his other arm around her waist, holding her where he wanted her, where she wanted to be. Fingernails in his chest, ripping down, dropped him from the peak, her name growled in his chest as he filled her with his seed. The huntress followed him down when his mana exploded on her quim, her shriek swallowed by his mouth.

They returned to the water, sinking into its warm embrace, washing sweat and lust from their bodies.

“On dhea’him, vhenans.” Lyna slipped into the room, nostrils flaring at the fresh scent of sex, drenched in cold rain. Armor and soaked cloth were quickly shed and she was welcomed between them. Thema began to wash her, his wives delving into the day’s hunt, and he closed his eyes. Sleep was considered briefly, batted away when gentler fingers started to play with the rings in his ears. He could only smile and pull his dancer close.


	35. Reap What You Sow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3some AU: He's the Arcane Advisor to the Inquisitor, the expert on Elvhen Culture, Lore and the Fade. When not researching the Breach he is trying to find humane ways to tear down the Veil. If only his wives would let him be. Two thousands years is a long time to make up for, the new earrings do not help, but he really needs to get his research done!
> 
> Prompt from lehavashadowsun  
> Written by Katalyna Rose

Thema and Lyna gifted Solas with three simple silver rings for his ears. It had been millennia since he’d indulge in such frivolity as wearing jewelry, but he smiled as he slid them into ancient piercings and his wives reminded him why he had once worn as many rings as he could in the tips of his sensitive ears. They could bring him such pleasure with clever little tongues when he wore earrings.

In the morning, Lyna brought him hot cider and something to eat as he sat at his desk researching the Breach for the Inquisitor. She lingered for a moment, clever and skilled fingers massaging the sensitive muscle behind his ears while her hot lips played with his new rings. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but she ended up in his lap with his hand up her skirt for a significant portion of the morning, putting him off schedule for what he’d hoped to accomplish that day.

Less than an hour after Lyna left, limping slightly and weak-kneed, Thema came by with his lunch. She ended up eating most of it for him as she found increasingly creative ways to seductively eat at him. He was determined to ignore her, however, and tried to focus on his work. But she wouldn’t let him be and ended up sitting on top of his research, smudging his writing and nearly destroying an ancient and delicate book. For her pains, he yanked hard on a handful of her hair to drag her off his desk. He took her sweet neck into his mouth and bit hard. She shivered and trembled and struggled to swallow her moans while he left bite after bite on her neck. He drew blood with his teeth and she let out a keening whine and grabbed for his cock, but he pushed her away. With a swat at her backside and a hard look he sent her scurrying away.

After that, he managed to work in peace for a few hours, likely while Thema found another way to sate herself. Shortly before dinner, however, both women wandered into the rotunda. They ignored him, to his surprise, and chose instead to take the tray of food they had with them and settle together on the couch nearby. They did not look at him or even acknowledge his presence as they fed each other morsels and shared mouthfuls of wine. Lyna teased at Thema’s new bites, bruises blooming across her skin urged to more spectacular colors by Lyna’s lips. Thema smeared the frosting of a frilly cake on Lyna’s cheek and neck and spent an inordinate amount of time licking her clean. Eventually, Thema ended up lying on top of Lyna and kissing the other woman passionately as slender fingers combed through starlight hair and muscular legs bared by a skirt trapped between bodies danced in the air. There was more than one cough to cover a moan from the library above as they put on their little show and Solas found himself unable to concentrate on his work entirely. His raging cockstand demanded that he join them, perhaps push himself into Thema from behind with no warning and make her fuck Lyna beneath her as she cried out. He managed to stay in his seat, though, despite the lust setting his blood on fire as he watched his women.

A glance to the library’s railing above him showed it lined with people, something that a lesser man might have been enraged about. Many of those spectators were nearly as enraptured as Solas, though a few were muttering to each other and shaking their heads in distaste. These dissenters did not, however, leave the railing and continued to watch, which Solas found rather amusing. Even Dorian leaned against the railing, watching the pair with a smirk. The Tevinter’s eyes met Solas’s and he winked before returning to his own studies. Solas bristled in his chair as he returned his gaze to his wives and the tangle of their limbs.

Before Thema could abandon all pretense of discretion, Lyna grabbed her by the hand and towed her from the room. Giggles and soft moans that would only be audible to elven ears in the lowest level of the rotunda where Solas at alone echoed from the hall. The faint sounds of pleasured sighs and the slap of skin on skin and a few well-muffled shrieks ensured that Solas could focus on nothing but the images of what the two women might be doing to each other in that shadowed hall just behind him.

It was nearly midnight and Solas had accomplished almost nothing after an entire day of attempting to research before his wives wandered back into the rotunda. Skyhold was quiet, its inhabitants having retired to bed or the tavern within the walls, and Solas was ready for them. Slender arms wrapped around him from behind and were denied when his magic washed over both women and they fell to the floor in two ungraceful heaps, paralysis taking over their limbs. With a deep sigh he stood from his chair and turned to regard them, two pairs of eyes looking up at him, lyrium blue with unbridled rage and Fade purple with excited curiosity.

“The two of you have been entirely inappropriate today,” he observed mildly as Thema managed to flop about in a strange manner, the muscles of her torso being the only ones that would respond to her commands. Lyna simply watched him, eyes narrowed and slight smile tugging at her lips that he would soon wipe away. “I have work to do and I am certain that you can find entertainment besides making certain that I do not accomplish my tasks. However, since the two of you seem determined to torment me I shall give you what you desire.” Thema’s enraged wiggling stopped and Lyna’s eyes widened in surprise at his words. He smirked. “Though perhaps it will not be quite what you expected.”

He pulled a bundle of cloth out of his pocket and both women watched him in confusion. They didn’t realize what he held until the gag had been pressed between Thema’s teeth. Lyna gasped and he watched the shivers travel up and down her spine as Thema tried unsuccessfully to remove the gag and spit insults at him, though she was no longer attempting to fight her paralysis. When he turned to Lyna she willingly opened her mouth to accept the gag and for her cooperation she received a brief kiss on her brow that made her tremble with pleasure. Then he picked up Thema and carried her glowering form in his arms until he could deposit her on the couch that they had used to tease half the population of Skyhold earlier in the day. Lyna was next, her limp body trembling intermittently with excitement in his arms. He allowed them to lay tangled together, their skin touching though they could do nothing about it. They could not move and they could not make any noise beyond muffled growls. It was perfect.

Solas returned to his desk and regarded them over his stacks of papers and books. “I am going to work for a while,” he told them calmly, excitement and arousal buzzing under his skin. “The two of you are going to stay right there, gagged and paralyzed, until I decide it is time to retire for the evening.” Lyna frowned and Thema started struggling again. Solas merely watched for a moment, reveling in their frustration, before sending his magic sparking across their skin. Both of them fell still, eyes wide as pleasure shocked through them. “You will stay right there,” he repeated, his tone low, predatory, as he stimulated them both in different ways with his magic. Thema received the sharp bite of lightning across the fresh bruises on her neck while Lyna was given a shock of force magic across her backside to imitate his hand spanking her supple flesh. Both of them quickly began moaning around their gags, muffled though it was, as his magic took different forms at unpredictable moments to torment them anew.

Solas kept his eyes on his research but he accomplished very little. The magic he was using was difficult and consumed so much of his attention that he had none to spare for his work. Instead he watched them out of the corners of his eyes as they twitched helplessly on the couch and his magic wrung pleasure from their immobile bodies. Lyna whipped her head against the cushions as his magic stimulated her core as though he were fucking her at breakneck pace while Thema arched her back and tried unsuccessfully to scream at the sharp bite of cold nipping at her breasts. He knew the pair of them could handle as much as he could give and so he did not hold back, gave them no time to rest between orgasms as he wrung one after another after another from them until their eyes rolled back in their heads and their muffled screams lost volume as their voices grew hoarse. But still he did not let up, kept torturing them with his magic until he nearly ran out of power.

By the time he was ready to end the game, Lyna was openly sobbing and Thema had managed to move just enough to have both of her arms and one of Lyna’s trapped beneath her body as she heaved her breaths. With a deep and tired sigh, Solas stood from his desk and adjusted the hard and aching weight of his erection, hissing at the contact of his palm against the throbbing flesh. He approached them, but for a moment neither seemed to notice his presence. His hands on Lyna’s face, wiping away her tears, got her attention. She met his gaze, brilliant violet eyes still watering and glazed from her body’s exertions. He gently untied the gag and removed it from her mouth, then massaged her jaw gently. When her eyes closed in sheer exhaustion as her body was finally allowed to come down from its high, he moved to Thema. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused and she could not even summon the will to curse him as he removed her gag and gave her the same gentle massage.

The removal of the paralysis on their limbs was met with minimal reaction. Lyna merely shifted into a more comfortable position and Thema flexed muscle groups one at a time as though making sure that they would respond to her commands, but neither said a word. Pride swelled in his chest as he saw what they had been reduced to by his efforts, how they had submitted to his will so entirely.

He scooped Thema into his arms and she moaned hoarsely but otherwise didn’t protest. He laid her in their bed before returning to gather Lyna as well. She curled into him and clutched at his chest like a child as he carried her and he pressed a kiss onto her hair that made her whimper. Once he had both women in bed, he addressed the task of stripping their clothes, soaked with sweat and sex, and then wiping them down with magically heated water and patting them dry with clean linens. Shoulders and hips received gentle massages and both were made to drink water. He had to hold the glass to their lips lift their heads for them, both rendered senseless and weak after hours of pleasure. There was a time, long ago, when he could have done such a thing for days, even weeks, keeping them bound and gagged and naked in bed as his magic played across their skin and he merely watched. It was disappointing that they did not have endless time in which to indulge in such activities anymore, but half a night of such intense play was satisfying anyway.

Care and love bloomed within Solas as he addressed the needs of both women, pleasure still pounding in his blood though his arousal waned. Sore muscles received the press of his thumbs to soothe them. A water glass was pressed to their lips periodically and they drank as much as they could. He combed their tangled and matted hair for them, carefully reordering the vhenan’nahr that they both still wore. Their bodies were washed with care a second time as they watched through slit lids. Both attempted to speak of their love and devotion but neither could talk past the burn in their throats from screaming for hours. He offered what little mana he had left to heal the soreness that prevented speech but both shook their heads in refusal. He smiled that they would want that burn, that pain, that reminder of what had occurred to heal naturally over time.

The sun rose as he cared for them and he ignored the fact that he would be getting no sleep at all. He would force down some tea to keep himself awake, but it was far more important that his wives received the care they deserved. A quick trip to the kitchens and he returned with fresh pastries, which he tore into bite-sized chunks and fed to them as they drifted in and out of exhausted slumber. He made sure they drank more water, massaged their bodies one more time, and dressed them in a pair of his own tunics that he knew they favored as nightwear. And then he dragged the blankets and furs over the pair as they curled into each other and tangled together. Each one received a deep kiss, returned sleepily, before he left them to rest.

Back in the rotunda, Solas sat at his desk with an entire pot of hated tea and gulped down the first cup of many before settling in to work. Shortly after noon both women stumbled in, bleary-eyed and wearing nothing but the tunics he’d dressed them in, to rain kisses on him and assure him that they both had been well-loved and were enjoying the aftermath as much as they had enjoyed the acts. Neither could speak yet, but they left him no room to doubt that they had enjoyed every moment of the previous night. They returned to bed after short time, still weak and exhausted. Solas returned to work with a satisfied grin fixed firmly in place and his love beating against his chest.


	36. Complaints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’ve had several pieces where someone walks in after all the fun is over, so I wanted one where someone walks in during the middle of it! Inquisition timeline because why not.

With an exhausted but relieved sigh, Lyna opened the door to the room she shared with Thema and Solas and stopped short when she broke a barrier that was containing the noises within the room. Thema’s snarling and Solas’s grunting suddenly echoed through the hall and Lyna quickly slipped inside the room and renewed the barrier she had broken as she closed the door. Neither of her lovers seemed to notice the intrusion as they battled each other on the bed, completely naked. Lyna stripped out of her armor and carefully cleaned it while Thema lost her battle and was suddenly speared by Solas’s cock. She screeched, throwing her head back as much as she could with her hair wound into Solas’s fist, and shuddered hard. Solas groaned with the pleasure of sex and victory as he shoved Thema’s face down into mattress and pounded into her from behind. Despite having one hand pinned high up on her back and Solas’s strong grip in her hair, she still attempted to fight him, wriggling madly, and only succeeded in driving his cock further into her body as he used his weight to hold her down.

It wasn’t until Lyna was finished cleaning her armor and decided she didn’t care about the pair fornicating and flopped face first onto the corner of the bed wearing only one of Solas’s tunics that either of them took notice. Thema had her face pressed too deeply into the mattress to even breathe, but Solas looked up from his conquest without pausing the quick thrusting of his hips.

“On dhea’him,” he greeted, out of breath and hoarse. Lyna merely groaned and wiggled out of the way of Thema’s single free arm, which flailed in her direction as she attempted to claw her way out from under Solas. “Are you well, vhenan?” Solas asked Lyna before yanking hard on Thema’s hair and bending her back up so he could sink his teeth into her neck hard enough to still her struggles for a moment before they renewed with vigor. Lyna grunted as Thema managed to pull one of the bed furs out from under her and throw it across the room as she fought and fucked at once.

“Delilah can’t hunt,” Lyna told him in Elvhen, not bothering to translate her words into the new language because she was tired and cranky. “I spent all morning just re-teaching her how to hold her bow. But since she still doesn’t like me very much it involved a lot of subtle manipulations until she thought it was _her_ idea to change how she holds her bow. And _then_ I spent all afternoon rolling my eyes every time she stepped on a twig and alerted our prey to our presence. Honestly, I have no idea how the Dalish have survived if she was a true hunter of her clan.”

“She’s better with a great sword,” Solas told her before hissing in a breath as Thema managed to reach back to claw his side deeply enough to draw blood. The hand that didn’t have one of her arms in a joint lock moved from her hair to her throat and gripped strongly in warning as he buried his teeth in the other side of her neck and sucked hard, body shivering as hers responded to the pain. Thema’s flailing arm stilled for just a moment and Solas grabbed it, pinning it behind her back with her other one and pressing her down into the bed. She was finally immobilized entirely, unable to do more than tilt her hips up to receive his thrusts. Lyna watched through barely-open eyes as the fight drained out of Thema and she submitted to Solas’s victory over her, body going limp except for the desperate pumping of her hips while she keened and moaned and screamed.

“Well, at least she knows how to use any weapon,” Lyna whined as Solas fucked Thema at breakneck pace. A lazy warmth was growing in her belly, arousal gathering from the sight of her lovers going at it, but she was too exhausted to do anything about it and instead she merely watched. “If she didn’t I would wonder how she hasn’t yet died out in the wilds with you. And, of course, if she did die then we would all be in trouble because she’s currently the only one who can seal the rifts. Not to mention the guilt you would carry for her death, regardless of how she’s acted.”

“You know me too well,” Solas groaned as he neared his finish. Thema keened as she suddenly found hers, body thrashing in the throes of pleasure once more.

“Of course I know you, vhenan,” Lyna told him with a smile, but he couldn’t respond as a shudder ran up his spine and he emptied himself inside Thema with an explosive exhale and a ragged groan. He collapsed on top of her as she twitched beneath him and for a few long moments no one moved at all except for heaving breaths. Then Solas pulled out of Thema and she lay flat with a pathetic little groan that she’d never admit to making. She managed to look at Lyna and smile a bit before collapsing in a heap.

“Hey, babe,” she mumbled into the furs beneath her cheek, and both Lyna and Solas chuckled.

“You seem well loved,” Lyna observed and received wordless agreement in return. Solas cleaned them both up with a wet cloth but didn’t heal either of their wounds. Thema sighed contentedly and seemed ready to drift off to sleep. Solas went to Lyna and kissed her deeply. She sighed as he did and welcomed him into her mouth, but when his hands began to wander she waved him off.

“I am too tired right now,” she told him. She smiled into his exhausted face, so much of his energy taken by his bout with Thema. “And you seem to be, as well. Let us simply rest, then. I am not in need.” Solas nodded and collapsed gratefully into bed between his women. Thema crawled up onto his chest and snuggled in there while Lyna curled into his side. She healed the cuts under her cheek and he protested with a wordless grunt.

“I won’t wake up to your dried blood on my face,” she told him. He had no response to make to that, so Lyna closed her eyes and let sleep take her.


End file.
